Never too late
by Loopstagirl
Summary: As the family deal with grief, Scott must face his fears and grow up, whilst Jeff battles between being dad and being a successful businessman. But what will it take to bring the two of them back together again?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Much as I would love too, I own nothing! :(**

**Huge, huge, huge thank you to Silver Bee, for not only being an amazing beta on this for me, but also putting up with me over the last couple of months talking about it. I owe you big time, my friend, big time. I cannot say thank you enough!**

**Hope you guys like this, and please don't forget to review!**

TBTBTB

Scott lay back with a sigh, relief coursing through him as his head sank gratefully into the soft pillows. Glancing over at the alarm clock balanced precariously on the edge of his bedside table, the teenager groaned. 1:00 am. His dad was going to kill him when he found out what time his oldest son had got to bed. If he found out, that was. Jeff Tracy never was around much anymore, which was why Scott hadn't managed to get to bed until now. He had spent the whole afternoon running around after his four younger brothers again. One of them always needed to be somewhere, and it often meant that all of them had to go because there was no one left at home to look after the younger ones. Once they were all finally in bed, then the homework had begun, the English essay wasn't going to complete itself. His teachers had already begun to ask questions.

"Is everything alright at home?"

"Are you getting enough sleep, Scott?"

"No," and "No," was what Scott thought to himself whenever he was asked, but in typical Tracy style, he had bottled it up. Even his dad didn't know he was the one looking after the others. He had organised a babysitter to be there to pick the younger ones up from school and spend each afternoon with the brothers, allowing Scott the time to do as he pleased, but she had disappeared after the first day and not turned up again since. That was three weeks ago.

Three weeks where Scott had been left to run the show on his own. Three weeks of trying to manage four brothers, two of which were not old enough to do anything by themselves, the other two managing to have clubs and activities dotted all over town nearly every night of the week. Three weeks of staying up way past midnight, trying to get as much homework done as possible so no one would realise that something was wrong. Scott wasn't sure how much more of it he could physically take; his body was screaming out for a decent night's sleep. Even the weekends didn't help any more, as Jeff was often away at a conference early Saturday morning, trusting the illusive babysitter to take care of his children. Naturally, that meant Scott would be up around 6 am, sorting Alan out. The toddler was such an early riser, often waking up Gordon as well and leaving his oldest brother desperate for a lay in he would not get.

His body was yelling at him to get some sleep, but as was often the case nowadays, Scott found that his mind was too occupied for him to be able to drift off. Themes from the play he was studying at school were whizzing around his head, causing it to pound uncomfortably, almost as if they were bouncing off his skull. Staring at the ceiling in something close to despair, the teenager felt the tears begin to prick the corners of his eyes.

"I need you, Mom," he whispered into the night, wishing with every fibre of his being that the last year had not taken place. This wouldn't be happening if Lucille was still alive. Jeff wouldn't have almost forgotten the existence of his family and Scott wouldn't be trying to play mother and father to four younger boys, in all of whom the grief was still too raw to accept their brother as the new parent of the family. Silently, the tears began to flow freely down the boy's cheeks, the emotions he had tried so hard to bottle up during the day for the sake of the others being let loose. Biting down on his pillow so that he would not wake any of the others up, Scott Tracy cried himself to sleep for the third night in a row, knowing that no one would even notice.

_Beep, beep, beep._

A hand emerged from deep within the covers, grasping blindly for the clock, hoping to stop the damn noise. Fumbling around the table for the device, Scott groaned as he managed to hit it, missing the button completely and sending it crashing to the floor.

_Beep, beep, beep._

Grinding his teeth together in frustration, the sixteen year old regretfully poked his head out of the covers and grabbed the annoying clock, silencing it swiftly and strongly resisting the urge to chuck it at the wall. He would be lucky if the crash hadn't already awoken at least one of the others, sending it flying would definitely be spelling trouble. Falling out of bed, Scott grasped the curtains and wrenched them apart, wincing as the sun light fell on his tired face. `At least the sun makes the journey to school more pleasant,' he thought to himself, grabbing the nearest clothes from the back of his chair.

Tiptoeing down the corridor, Scott glanced out of the window as he passed; noting that the family car was already gone, meaning Jeff must have left even earlier than usual today. Nearly tripping over the end of his jeans as he made his way into the bathroom, Scott realised with dread that this was at least the second time he had worn this pair this week, meaning he desperately needed to put some washing on when he got home later. Climbing out of his pyjamas, Scott quickly stepped into the shower, keeping the temperature low in the hope it would somehow wake him up. Whether or not it woke him up remained to be seen, but the cool water cascading over him was certainly a blessing, he must have been sleeping in a really strange position last night, for his neck was really stiff.

Eventually though, the teenager regretfully shut the water off, grabbing the nearest towel as he stepped out of the shower. Yep, definitely needed to do some washing tonight, the towels were strewn over the floor. Scott supposed that it was only because he had his own bathroom that Jeff had not noticed things were not as they should be. If he had noticed, he certainly had not done anything about it.

By the time Scott was dressed, had breakfast and was just putting the finishing touches to both the breakfasts and lunches that would keep the rest of the family going, evidence the others were waking up began. A thud was swiftly followed by running feet, the noise getting louder and louder as Gordon tore into the kitchen at top speed, nearly flattening his brother in the process. Sitting the seven year old down and telling him he had to eat everything, Scott left the kitchen, passing John on the stairs. The blond barely noticed his brother, his eyes consisting of the same far away look that had been residing there since the death of their mother. Watching him enter the kitchen, Scott sighed. Something needed to be done about John, it was clear that he was struggling to cope with the grief. Only being a typical Tracy, the normally quiet boy had withdrawn even further, not even talking to Scott about it.

Entering Gordon and Alan's joint room, Scott couldn't help but smile fondly down at the two year old who was waiting for him. Picking Alan up, Scott bounced the toddler on his hip as he carried him through to Virgil's room. Placing him on the floor by the bed, the teenager then leant over, shaking his younger brother. Dodging the flaying arm with ease, Scott took Alan back through to his own room to dress the youngster, knowing that Virgil was at least awake now. He had almost given up trying to make the brown haired boy eat breakfast, it was far too much of a struggle with the others to get ready as well.

By the time that Alan was dressed and sitting in his chair, playing with rather than eating his breakfast, time was beginning to run short and Scott found his temper was heading that way as well. John had not uttered a word throughout the whole meal, continuing his work on the Math homework that was a lot harder than anyone his level should be doing, but then again, the boy was a genius. Gordon had discovered that Alan retaliated if food was flicked at him, meaning the two of them were in need of a change again, and Virgil had not yet been seen.

"John, will you please put that book down and give me a hand with the terrible two?" Scott snapped, much more harshly than he had intended. His younger brother merely looked at him, his face giving nothing away as he silently stood and took Alan upstairs.

With his heart sinking, Scott took Gordon firmly by the hand and took the youngster upstairs. He would have to talk to John later, apologise for the way that he had spoken to him. This was the big problem with having to look after them all whilst working on very little sleep, it made his naturally short temper even shorter than ever, John often being the one on the receiving end. It was never anything he did that made Scott snap at him, it was the opposite. It was the fact that he didn't do _anything_ that caused Scott to be irritable, he was struggling by himself.

With Alan and Gordon changed, the bags packed and waiting by the door, four out of the five Tracys were ready to go.

"Virgil! Will you please get your butt down here NOW!" Hoping that he would have escaped with his language, Scott held his breath. Luckily, the younger two were busying playing by their feet and John, as normal, didn't react at all. The only good thing was that Virgil eventually appeared at the top of the stairs, looking thoroughly put out at being yelled at. Rolling his eyes, Scott picked Alan up, slung his bag over his shoulder and took Gordon's hand in his free one.

"Can you lock the door, John?" he asked his brother, anxious to keep his voice neutral this time so he didn't cause any further offence. Virgil was already walking ahead, no doubt sulking, and with his hands full of the younger ones, Scott was hopeful that John had his key. Luckily, he did, and within a matter of seconds, all five of them were heading down the road to catch the bus. Virgil hated having to leave earlier, but Scott still had to get Alan to kindergarten and Gordon to the primary school around the corner as well as being on time to school himself, meaning they had no choice.

The silence on the bus was a stony one. Even Alan was quiet as he sat beside Scott, no doubt sensing the mood of his brothers. John and Virgil jumped off outside the school, no doubt going to find something to do to kill the remaining hour before the bell rang whilst Scott carried on in the bus. It was annoying that he had to double back in order to get back to school himself, but nothing could be done about it.

Gordon was dropped off in a matter of seconds. Scott was thankful the redhead liked school now, it would have been almost impossible to get him to go in on his own if he had kept the attitude that had emerged when he first started school. No doubt the memory of being dropped off by his mother was still in his mind, even though it had been nearly a year already. The time had gone so quickly, most likely because the oldest had been forced to adapt so quickly to his new role that he had never had the time to sit and think about it. As if sensing his older brother's mood, Alan suddenly snuggled into Scott's side, hugging his brother close.

Smiling down at the child, Scott looped his arm over the boy's shoulders, pulling him closer. Alan had grown so much in a year. Scott wasn't sure how much of their mother he could remember, even after only a year, but the child was the easiest out of all of them to look after, he seemed to almost worship Scott. If it had been any other situation, the oldest brother would have felt extremely uncomfortable for the amount of attention he received, but in this case, he was only thankful he knew that Alan would do precisely as he was told. The same could not have been said about his older brothers.

At last, the final brother was ready to be dropped off as the bus pulled to a stop directly outside the kindergarten. Gathering his brother and his bag into his arms, Scott climbed off the bus and into the school. Milling around the entrance were numerous mothers, all chatting about idle matters that meant nothing to the teenager. Some gave him sympathetic smiles as he carried Alan past; they had begun to recognise him over the last few weeks. Ignoring them, Scott held his head high and entered the building.

Placing Alan on the floor, Scott passed his brother his small bag, ruffling the child's hair as he ran off to play with his friends, the morning stresses no longer important to the toddler. Watching him with a slightly sad smile, Scott didn't notice the kindergarten teacher come up behind him. She was also watching Alan, but it was clear that her mind was not on the young Tracy, but on his older brother.

"He's doing well, isn't he? I mean, all things considering, he has progressed well."

"I guess," Scott responded, not sure what she wanted him to say. Miss Starle was a kind hearted young woman, someone who had been extremely understanding over the last month, often staying behind late whilst Scott rushed from school to pick his brother up.

"How about you, Scott? How are you managing? I've noticed you seem to be more and more responsible for all of your brothers lately. Are you coping?"

For a moment, Scott was tempted to tell the woman everything, to break down here and now and tell someone everything that was happening. How his father was never around, how he was barely getting any sleep whilst trying to deal with the rest of the family whilst covering the whole thing up. Somehow, this place seemed the place to do it, surrounded by the caring mothers who were here dropping their own children off. A glance at Alan, however, meant that Scott simply sent all of his emotions straight back into his heart, ready to be bottled up again. If he admitted it, things would change, and not necessarily for the best. Scott was still trying to cope with the last disruption to their lives, he wasn't sure if he could cope with another.

"Fine, Miss. Everything is fine, they have all settled into the new routine really well, all things considered."

Watching the teenager guardedly, the teacher sighed. She had seen straight through the boy, it was clear that he had never answered how _he _was, but how his brothers were. It was something she noticed a lot about Scott Tracy, the others always came first, no matter what. Although she knew it was not her place, the teacher couldn't help but wonder why Mr. Tracy was not doing something about the clearly bad state his oldest son was in. Before she could question the youth any further, Scott waved to his youngest brother and headed for the door.

"I'd better hurry; I still have to get to school." Turning around, Scott didn't see Alan's face fall as his hero disappeared out of the door. Miss Starle sighed as she watched the toddler, knowing he would remain quiet and passive all day now until Scott returned. It was always the boy coming to pick his brother up, often with the others in tow, normally bickering the way brothers do. It wasn't right; an adult was needed in that family, although the teacher did not know quite how illusive Mr. Tracy was.

Walking out of the kindergarten, Scott sighed to himself as the bus pulled into the lay by. A light drizzle had begun to fall, causing the teenager to shudder in the cold as the rain made its way down his neck and trickled down to his back. _Great_, he couldn't help but think bitterly, pulling his collar up closer around his neck. _Just what I need._

Hurrying onto the bus, Scott flashed his pass at the driver and slumped into the nearest seat, already feeling exhausted. It was going to be one of those days, the teen could just feel it. Gazing despondently out of the window, Scott barely noticed the shades of grey flickering past as he headed back to school, only being pulled back to reality when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"We're at the school now, son." A grey haired middle aged man was standing over Scott, a gentle smile on his face. Smiling gratefully, the teen hoisted his bag up and hurried through the school gates just as the bell rang. The man and the bus driver exchanged worried glances. Like Miss Starle, they too had begun to recognise Scott, watching him control his brothers each morning. In recognising the youth, the two men had also begun to worry about him as he seemed to be paler and paler each day, the bags under his eyes growing. Something needed to be done about that boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all of you who reviewed, and a thank you to Whirlgirl to for your lovely review.**

**Hope you like part 2. And I still own nothing!**

Slumping down in his seat at the back of the class, Scott snuck his Math book out from his bag, keeping a close eye on the teacher. He had about twenty minutes before the first lesson, just enough time to get some of the questions finished. Ignoring his friends whispering around him, Scott instead focused on the book under his table. Frowning in confusion at the complexity of the sum, Scott jumped when a hand entered his vision, a note clasped firmly in the fist.

Giving the boy in question a puzzled glance, Scott frowned as his friend just gestured to the note. They had learnt over the last few weeks not to distract Scott whilst he was trying to work during form time, the lack of sleep meaning he was prone to blowing up suddenly. Smoothing out the crumpled sheet, Scott quickly ran his eyes over the contents, smiling gratefully at the boy in the seat next to him, who nodded in acknowledgment. All the answers were there, stages of the working out shown as well, meaning all Scott had to do was copy it up, taking half the time working it out on his own would have done.

Feeling slightly guilty, Scott penned in the last answer and snuck his book back into the bag. If he had ever caught any of his brothers cheating, he would have given them hell, but this particular teacher seemed to have it in for the oldest brother, and not having done his homework would give him the perfect opportunity to put him in detention for about a month, something Scott _really_ didn't have time for at the moment. Just as Scott pulled his bag shut, the bell rang, signalling the start to another very long day. Scrambling from his seat with the rest of the class, Scott quickly caught up with his friend.

"Toby! Hey, Toby. Thanks man, I owe you big time. Flich would have loved that opportunity to kick me out."

"No worries, dude," Toby gave his friend a slap on the back, laughing at the look on his face. It was the least he could do, yet he knew that if he was to offer any other sort of help, Scott would immediately close down. Smiling at the companionship his friend offered without the constant looks of worry and concern, Scott allowed himself to be led against the crowd, heading for the worst lesson of the day.

Ten minutes later, and the oldest Tracy brother was completely confused. He had never understood trigonometry, and today was to be no exception.

"Tracy," Mr. Flich suddenly yelled, making the slumped boy sit up straight. "What's the length of the hypotenuse?"

"Er…" Before Scott had to admit he didn't know the answer, again, a soft knock on the door diverted the teacher's attention away from him. The minute Flich's back was turned, Toby's hand shot across the desk, the note within containing all Scott would need to know for the sum at hand. Smiling, Scott smirked at the wink his friend tipped him.

"Ah, Tracy junior, what can I do for you?"

Snapping his head back up again, Scott glanced at the door in time to see John materialise in it. Handing the teacher a note, the blond said nothing, staring at his feet instead. Trying to catch his brother's eye and failing, Scott instead turned back to the teacher, trying to establish that way the reason for John's visit.

"Very well, junior. Take a seat." Frowning in confusion, Scott watched as John entered the classroom, his eyes on the floor. Taking a seat at the back of the room, John slowly pulled his own books from his bag, placing them on the desk in front of him with clear intentions of staying. As if knowing the boy's attention was distracted, Flich turned back towards the older brother.

"Well, Tracy? The hypotenuse?" With half an eye on John, Scott slowly turned back around in his seat.

"3.66, Sir," he said, his tone completely neutral to the point where it bordered on sarcasm. Flich frowned, certain that the teen had not really known the answer. Unable to say anything, the teacher instead turned back to the board, slowly writing up the next question. Turning back towards the boys, the man smirked when he heard the groans echo throughout the room as the class read the sum, by far the hardest thing they had done yet.

"Well? Rogers? Smith? Do _any_ of you know the answer?" Growing frustrated at the silence and the blank stares he was receiving in response, Flich turned back to the board. And they told him the boys here were supposed to be smart.

"8.61," a voice muttered quietly, causing the restlessness of the class to be stilled in an instant. Slowly turning back around, Flich didn't need to ask who had said it, for the entire class were looking gobsmacked at a single desk.

"Not bad, junior, not bad at all. Didn't take you long to show your brother up now, did it?"

Luckily for Mr Flich, the bell chose that precise moment to ring. Glaring at the teacher with something close to hatred, Scott angrily stuffed his books back into his bag. Swinging it over his shoulder, Scott shrugged off Toby's calming hand.

"I'll catch up with you later, alright?" he muttered, watching John slowly pack up his own books. Exiting the classroom, Scott, instead of heading towards the common room where he normally whiled away his free lessons, leant back on the wall, waiting for John. Thankful that he didn't have another class to get to, Scott lounged against the wall, wondering about the conversation that was going on within. After a few moments, the door swung open, and his younger brother stepped through, his eyes once more on the floor.

"John, hey. Bro, look at me, what's going on?" Grabbing his brother by the arm when he received no acknowledgment, Scott spun the younger boy around to face him. John merely shrugged, pushing Scott's hand away. Beginning to walk away, Scott felt the anger build up. He had had it with John, he had only been asking.

"John Glenn Tracy, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Unaware of how much like his father he sounded, Scott glared at the back of John's head, not sure whether he should feel relieved or not when John slowly paused and, just as slowly, began to turn around. Still, he refused to meet his brother's eye.

"Are you going to snap out of this, or do I have to tell Dad?" Not sure what that threat was even supposed to mean any more, Scott bit his lip as John slowly lifted his head. The pain was clear in his eyes, making Scott's heart clench uncomfortably at the haunted look in his little brother's face. He had been trying so hard to make that look go away over the last year.

"Like he would care," John said quietly, his voice as cold as ice. Swallowing, Scott met his brother's gaze head on.

"That's not true, John, and you know it." Scott was almost surprised by what came out of his mouth, knowing full well it was a lie, their father would not even notice. Unfortunately, John knew this as well.

"Yeah?" he all but sneered, making Scott draw back in surprise. He had hoped to get through to John, not have this reaction. "Is that why Alan doesn't even remember who his father is?"

Having had enough, Scott didn't even think about what he was doing. All that he knew was that he went from standing against the wall to throwing himself at his brother within a couple of seconds. It seemed John's dam had finally broken, for the younger of the two was more than prepared for his brother's attack, immediately flipping them over so it was John on top, causing Scott to gaze at the withdrawn boy in something that resembled horror. What had happened to the boy they had all loved so much? Any further thoughts were driven from his head when John's fist connected with his cheek, the stinging impact enough to bring him back to reality. Kicking out with his legs, Scott dislodged his younger brother and quickly reversed their positions, straddling the younger boy. Slamming John's head against the floor, Scott felt all of the emotions he had been holding back for almost a year come pouring forth. Unluckily, it seemed the same was happening to John, and before long, the two brothers were wrestling furiously on the floor, unaware that the previously empty corridor was beginning to fill back up as students streamed from the rooms to watch, teachers both trying to control their own classes and break up the fighting brothers.

"Stop!" A high voice finally got through to Scott and he paused, ignoring the fact that John had his arm looped around his neck. His eyes searching the crowd, Scott eventually found the body to whom the voice belonged. Tears building up in his brown eyes, Virgil watched the two with horror on his face. Transfixed by the look on Virgil's face, Scott didn't hear the approach of the PE teacher until he felt John being bodily pulled away from him, his own arm being gripped in a tight grasp.

"Everyone away!" the man yelled, sending the boys flying back into their own classrooms. Making to go after Virgil, Scott felt himself yanked to a stop when the grip on his arm merely tightened.

"Not you, Tracy. You two are coming with me." Frogmarching the two boys down the corridor, the great hulk of Mr Samson was enough to send any student cowering. Luckily, Scott generally got on with the man, his keenness for sports getting him past the hard barrier around him. Although, by the look of fury on his face, that wasn't going to help him now.

Almost throwing the two boys into his office, Samson shut the door sharply behind him, setting off to find the brothers' respective tutors. It had surprised him to discover it was the Tracys who were fighting; the three brothers had nearly always seemed inseparable. Until about a year ago. An announcement at a staff meeting had mentioned some sort of family tragedy, and since then, the three had gone their separate ways. If anyone was to ask, Samson would say that in itself was a tragedy.

Back in the office, Scott glared out of the window at nothing in particular. How many times had he been in this office, not all of the reasons being positive ones? Hearing a small sniff behind him, the brunette's eyes fell on John, huddled in one of the chairs by the desk. Sniffing again, John wiped his hand across his stinging nose, biting his lip.

"You ok?" Scott asked quietly, already beginning to feel the first tendrils of guilt working their way into his soul. John mutely nodded, then seemed to change his mind, and shook his head instead. And then, to Scott's complete and utter shock, he burst into tears. Taken aback, Scott could only stare at his brother for a moment before his brotherly instincts kicked back in full swing. He hadn't seen John cry since the day they had found out about their mother. Even at the funeral, he remained quiet, the sorrow clear in his eyes, but never once letting go.

Wrapping his arms around the younger boy, Scott pulled the shaking form into his chest, softly resting his head on top of John's blond one. Feeling the tears beginning to soak his t-shirt, Scott gently manoeuvred John out of the chair until they were both sitting on the floor. Once more enclosing John in a firm embrace, Scott pulled him close to his side, feeling his sides tremble. Unable to help himself, the older brother felt a few tears begin to slip down his own cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Scotty," John sobbed, his torrent of emotions pouring forth now his defences had been lowered. "I've been such an idiot. You needed me, and I wasn't there."

"Shh, Johnny, it's ok. I'm sorry too; I should have been there for you more."

"You've had your hands full with the others. I should have helped."

Rocking John back and forth as his sobs slowly began to subside, Scott blinked hard, trying to stop his own tears. Eventually, John pulled away, letting out a shaky laugh when he saw the state they were both in. Looping an arm around his brother's shoulders, the two boys leant back against the desk, John resting his head on his brother's shoulder, feeling utterly exhausted. Before they had a chance to say anything, the office door sprung back open and Samson returned, two other teachers in tow. Blinking at the sight in front of him, Scott bit back a laugh, it was almost comical, the look on the big man's face.

"Scott Tracy, how many times do we have to have this conversation about fighting?" Peering around Samson's broad frame, Scott's tutor softened her tone when she realised the position the two brothers were in. Smiling softly, the teacher sighed.

"I hope this helps," she stated, before striding out of the room, pulling John's teacher away with her. At the look of astonishment mirrored identically on the two young faces, Samson laughed, a deep throaty laugh that seemed to begin in his toes.

"You don't think we haven't noticed your attitudes lately did you? Despite what you may think, teachers aren't completely thick." Chortling at the look on their faces, Samson left the two boys to it. By checking the timetables, he had already made apologies to John's English teacher. But right now, he had another class to interrupt.

"What happens now?" John muttered, his voice almost lost in Scott's t-shirt. Sighing, Scott leant back against the desk.

"I don't know, Johnny. I honestly don't know."

"Scott?" When his brother glanced down on him, John offered him a watery smile, the first true smile to grace his features for a very long time.

"We will work it out. I'm going to help now, I promise." Feeling his eyes beginning to water again, Scott glanced away, but was spared any awkwardness by Samson's return. Looking anxious, Virgil's head peered out from behind the teacher.

"Think you two have some explaining to do," the man said gruffly, nudging Virgil into the room and once more closing the door. Watching them guardedly, Virgil bit his lip.

"We're ok, Virg." Sharing a smile with John, Scott grinned up at the youngest brother present. "We're ok." Suddenly throwing his arms around both brothers at the same time, Virgil practically catapulted himself across the room, landing securely in Scott's outstretched arms. Ruffling his hair fondly, Scott smiled down at the child, thankful his attitude from the morning seemed to have cleared up, for the time being at least. Not knowing it was to do with the shock of seeing his older brothers looking like they were trying to kill each other, John caught Scott's eye, identical thoughts going through his head. As the bell signalling the beginning of morning break sounded, Scott sighed. Climbing to his feet, he offered both his hands down to the younger ones, almost being pulled back over as they both used him as leverage at the same time. Holding the door open for Virgil to slip through first, a voice called Scott back.

"What did she mean about the fighting, Scott?" John asked, his eyes roaming his big brother's face.

"I'll explain later," Scott muttered, blushing. He was hoping none of the others would ever find out about his rogue patch.

"Scotty? Please, talk to me?" Smiling at John, Scott nodded.

"I promise." His heart feeling lighter than it had done for months, the two brothers went their separate ways. Unable to hide the spring in his step at the possibility of a new start with John, Scott bounded up to Toby, whose anxious look only deepened when he caught sight of the wide grin on his friend's face.

"Are you alright? Rumours were you and John got in a bit of a scrap."

"You should know not to listen to rumours, Tobs." Giving his friend a playful punch in the arm, Scott grinned.

"Everything's great, Toby. Let's go and get something to drink, I'm parched." Looking slightly bewildered at the change that had overcome his friend, Toby let himself be dragged away, wondering if this was the same Scott Tracy he had recently smuggled Math answers to.

The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blur for Scott, and before he knew it, lunchtime had arrived. Entering the café with a group of friends, Scott's eyes were instantly drawn to one table, where a blond figure sat alone.

"Are you coming, Tracy?" Waving his friends on, Scott changed direction.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked with a smile, laughing outright at the look that shot over John's face when he looked up. Dumping his bag on the seat next to him, Scott pulled out his own lunch, watching John closely.

"Don't you have friends to sit with?" John muttered, not wanting to make things harder for Scott than they already were.

"Maybe I'm sitting with them," Scott responded with a smile, grabbing his bag just in time to stop Virgil sitting on it. This used to be something of a weekly occurrence, all three brothers sitting together.

Chatting in a way they hadn't managed for months, the three brothers headed towards their last classes of the day with high spirits.


	3. Chapter 3

**And here is part 3! Thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed so far, really means a lot! Special thanks to Sam1 and Whirlgirl, to whom i could not respond to!**

Coincidentally, all of them had their favourite subjects that afternoon, meaning the cheerfulness was still present when they met outside the school gates. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Scott scanned the throngs of people, searching for one face in particular.

"Come on, come on, where is he?"

"Over there," John supplied, pointing his brother in the right direction. Eventually, Virgil managed to fight his way through the crowd to reach his brothers, hands covered in paint. Raising his eyebrows at the streak of blue across Virgil's cheek, Scott smiled.

"Tribal markings, Virg?" Grinning deviously, Virgil nodded.

"Tracy clan," he said innocently, before darting forwards and drawing his finger across Scott's cheek, leaving the oldest brother with a similar mark and John laughing. Smiling at the sound he hadn't heard for almost a year, Scott made to move forward towards the buses.

"Scott? What if you take Virgil and go straight to get Alan and I'll get Gords and meet you at home?"

Surprised by John's sudden proposal, Scott merely stared at his brother, his brain trying to keep up with the change that had taken place in a mere day.

"Come on, it means we will all get home about half an hour earlier. I do have my key, after all."

"Very well. See you at home. Coming, Virg?" Ushering the younger boy onto the bus in front of him, Scott waved as John walked past, heading for the bus behind them. It seems the blond was determined to make good on his earlier promise, starting now.

"That boy is a mystery," Scott muttered as he gracefully threw himself into a vacant seat, Virgil going further back to sit with some friends. As he had passed the time that morning, Scott stared absentmindedly out of the window as the scenery flashed past, only vaguely aware of the bus slowly emptying. Eventually, there were only a couple of people left, Virgil scooting up the bus to sit beside his brother.

"What went down between you and John?" the young artist asked, still shaken up by the fight. He supposed if he was honest, he knew it had been brewing for some time, but to actually see it explode in the middle of the school corridor was the last thing Virgil had been expecting when he left the house in a mood that morning.

"We…came to an understanding," Scott answered, a tight smile emerging.

"Did you know you had over four teachers yelling at you to break it up, and the pair of you just ignored them?"

"Really?" Scott asked in surprise. He had been so caught up in the heat of the fight he hadn't heard a thing, the blood had been pounding in his ears too loudly. It was only Virgil's voice that had pulled him from his fury.

"Yeah. What made you stop?" Knowing that question was coming - Virgil loved to know every detail about something - Scott grinned ruefully down at his younger brother.

"You did, kiddo." Before Virgil had a chance to respond, Scott pulled him into a head lock, rubbing his knuckles into the chestnut coloured hair. Pretending not to feel Virgil trying to push away, he eventually gave his brother a mock shove, grinning at the look of delight on Virgil's face before the boy hastily covered it up by pretending to glare.

"It's been a weird day," Virgil muttered, leaning back in his seat.

"Tell me about it," Scott murmured softly, grabbing his bag when he saw the bus pulling up in front of a familiar kindergarten.

"Come on, kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo," Virgil grumbled, picking up his bag and following his brother off the bus. The two brothers walked side by side into the kindergarten, greeted by a concerned Miss Starle, who looked horrified at the bruise coming out on Scott's cheek.

"Are you alright, Scott?" she asked worriedly, watching the boy closely. To her delight, he suddenly smiled the first true smile she had seen him wear for a very long time.

"Great. Absolutely great."

"Scotty!" Catching sight of the familiar youngster tottering towards him, Scott dropped his bag onto the floor and caught the delighted Alan up in his arms, swinging him around.

"Hey, Sprout." Giggling, Alan nestled in closer to Scott, wrapping his small arms around his brother's neck, grinning at Virgil over his shoulder. Neither of the older two noticed the figure enter the kindergarten behind them, stopping in surprise when he saw who else was there.

"You're earlier today, Scott," Miss Starle continued, nodding to the man behind the boys.

"Yeah, John's gone to get Gordon, so we came straight here after school."

"Glad to see the fight did something then." A voice rumbled behind him, almost making the teenager drop Alan in surprise.

"Mr Samson! What-?"

"Daddy!" A second small figure came trotting through from the room where Alan had been playing, running in delight at the PE teacher, who mirrored Scott's earlier actions by scooping the child into his arms.

"Hey champ. Don't recall seeing you boys in here before," Samson continued, hugging his son tightly to him. Scott looked stunned; it had never crossed his mind that the aggressive teacher was really a doting father.

"We don't normally get here until later," Virgil supplied, stepping sharply on Scott's foot; he seemed to have completely frozen and was doing a very good impression of a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Now Scott and John have come to their….understanding, we hopefully can get here earlier."

"Do you think Gordy will play tonight?" Alan asked Scott suddenly, nuzzling into his neck, completely ignoring the conversation around him. Samson watched in amazement.

"Exactly how many of you are there, Tracy?"

"Five," Scott muttered, hitching Alan further into his arms.

"Five! Good grief, boy. No wonder you blew up earlier." Squirming uncomfortably under his teacher's gaze, Scott shifted position, causing Alan to draw back and look at his brother in apparent confusion, before turning his attention back to the strange man.

"Scotty didn't blow up. He's all here. Silly."

"Alan," Scott scolded, his cheeks burning. "That's not very nice. Say sorry."

"Sorry Scotty!" Rolling his eyes, Scott shared a smirk with Virgil, unaware that his actions were being closely monitored

"Not to me, Sprout. Say sorry to Mr Samson for calling him silly."

"Sorry," Alan muttered, pouting. Bending down, Scott somehow managed to hook his bag over his shoulder whilst still maintaining his grip on the squirming toddler.

"Let's see if Gordy and John have beaten us home then, shall we Sprout? Get the door for me, Virg?" Scurrying ahead, Virgil quickly pulled the door open for his oldest and youngest brothers.

"Sir," Scott acknowledged as he passed his teacher, receiving a nod in response. Stepping out into cool afternoon air, the three boys headed towards the bus stop.

"How long have the boys been picking their brother up?" Samson asked, turning his attention back to the kindergarten teacher, immediately noting the concern in her eyes as she watched the retreating figures.

"Nearly a month now. It's always Scott dropping him off in the morning, always Scott picking them all up in the afternoon. I know it's not my place to interfere, but that boy has taken on way too many responsibilities since his mother's death. What did you mean by a fight earlier?"

"You know Scott's brother, John?" At the nod he received in response, Samson continued, bouncing his son up and down in his arms and causing the delighted boy to giggle.

"Something sparked the two of them off and they gave each other a pounding. It seems it may have healed some sort of rift between them though."

"I hope so. Scott needs all the help he can get at the moment, the boy is getting paler every day."

"His teachers having been saying his grades are suffering as well," Samson added, his mind clearly thinking over the conversation.

"You seem to have kept a close eye, Brian."

"Yeah well, I'm hoping the kid will make the try outs this term. He's good. Can't have anyone on my team who doesn't pull their weight. I have to admit, though, I never thought he would be so good with the youngest."

"Oh he is amazing with Alan. The boy worships his older brother."

"Something is not right though," Samson continued, narrowing his eyes as he peered out of the door. The three figures could still be seen, the bus having not yet arrived. "Anyway, have to go, Jenny. Keep an eye on them." Abruptly departing, Miss Starle smiled at the retreating back. She had even had the bus driver turn up asking about Scott. Intentionally or not, Scott had made a lot of people worry about him lately.

Passing the boys on his way to his car, Samson couldn't help but listen into their conversation, trying to piece together the mystery surrounding the Tracy family.

"Scotty, you've got paint on you. Just like Virgy."

"Well, Alan, Virgil says they are tribe markings, showing we are all brothers." Drawing his clean finger quickly across Alan's face, Scott smiled at his brother.

"Look, now you've got one."

"Here comes the bus!" Virgil suddenly yelled, scooping his bag up from where he had dumped it on the floor as he began to flag down their transport home. Hurrying on so the boys didn't realise he was listening, Samson walked quickly to his car. Strapping his son into the back seat, Samson glanced up just in time to see the three boys disappear onto the bus.

"They're a funny lot," Samson muttered to himself, securing the travel chair to the seat.

"Funny," his son repeated, clapping his hands, delighted at his father's attention, who smiled in return, gently wiggling the waving hand.

"It's not funny, Virgil!" Scott spluttered, trying to ignore his brother who was almost falling off his seat because he was laughing so hard.

"Oh, but your face! You should have seen it, Scott, you looked completely mortified."

"No laughing, Virgy," Alan scolded his brother, crawling across Scott's lap so he could tell his brother off. "Naughty."

"Yeah, Virgil. Listen to Alan, it's not nice."

"Shut up, Scooter," Virgil scowled, his laughter gone. Now it was Scott's turn to laugh, the look of annoyance at being told off by their two year old brother bordering on comical. Giggling, Alan snuggled onto Scott's lap, not sure why he was laughing, but knowing there must be something funny if his hero was laughing.

"How come he doesn't tell you off?" Virgil asked, mock bitterness in his voice. Considering all that had happened throughout the day, however, the young artist couldn't find it within himself to be properly annoyed, his relief at having the John he loved back too strong.

"'Cos I'm me," Scott supplied helpfully, wrapping his arms around his youngest brother and holding him close. Eventually, the bus pulled into their stop and the three boys got off, Scott once more taking the toddler in his arms. Turning Alan's collar up at the cool breeze blowing down the road, Scott smiled when he saw John and Gordon round the opposite corner. The redhead was clinging tightly to his big brother's hand, beaming up at the blond, chatting non- stop. It looked like Scott was not the only one to appreciate the sudden change in the boy. Whilst Alan may have worshipped Scott almost since the moment he was born, Gordon had always been drawn to John. With any luck, now John was back, Gordon would be a lot happier as well.

Seeing his brothers, Virgil's face lit up and he suddenly shot off down the road, clearly racing the two to the front door. Seeing the sudden movement, John bent down and scooped up a surprised Gordon. Placing the youngster on his back, the older boy also shot off towards the door, Gordon's delighted giggle apparent to Scott even from a distance.

Seeing John fumble in his pocket for his key, Scott picked up the pace, noting how sleepy Alan suddenly was after all the excitement of the afternoon. Holding the door open for him, Scott nodded his thanks to John as he entered the house, setting Alan down in the lounge. Gordon instantly engaged his younger brother in some unknown game and the older two left them to it. Virgil had already disappeared upstairs and, as it was a Friday, Scott left him to it. The battle regarding homework could wait until the next day. Entering the kitchen, Scott grimaced at the mess, sensing John walk in behind him and mirror his actions.

"I've been such an idiot," the younger of the two muttered, instantly beginning to clear the remaining breakfast crockery from the table. Between the two of them, the kitchen was in an almost respectable state within the hour, when Scott suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead, remembering the morning.

"Towels," he muttered, sprinting up the stairs, leaving John finishing the drying up. Already the effect of having someone to help was beginning to pay off, for Scott would have never been able to tidy the kitchen that quickly if he had been on his own. Gathering all the dirty laundry from various points around the house, Scott nearly tripped on his own feet as he tried to make his way back down the stairs. His arms were piled so high he couldn't see where he was going. Nudging the door open with his toe, Scott heard John's low whistle of disbelief as his brother backed into the kitchen.

"Does Dad not notice _anything_?" the boy asked, sounding incredulous. Dropping his load, Scott began to randomly stuff items of clothing into the washing machine. Turning back towards John in worry, the older brother was relieved to see that although he looked sad, none of the anger that had caused the fight earlier was present in the boy, just a sorrow that seemed to express exactly how Scott himself was feeling. Shaking his head, Scott set about his next job, determined the house would be as straight as he could make it before the weekend. Hopefully, with someone around to help him, this weekend would be able to provide the teenager with the rest he so desperately needed.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur for the Tracy family. Scott shoved a pizza in the oven and they spent the night in front of the TV, each taking it in turns to choose what to watch, the youngest going first. After putting Alan to bed, the remaining brothers played a game, one Gordon loved so much. Eventually, the young redhead was beginning to yawn, although it was clear he was determined not to show it to his brothers.

"Think it is bed time now, Gordo?" Scott said, making to stand up. A hand on his arm stopped him, however, and John stood up.

"I've got it," he muttered, scooping Gordon up into his arms.

"You're getting heavy, mate," he told his brother, carrying him up the stairs. It didn't take long for John to get the young troublemaker into his pyjamas and into bed. After a quick check on Alan, he made to leave the room, his hand resting on the light switch, when a small voice called him back.

"Johnny?"

"What's up, Gords?"

"Love you." Snuggling further down into his bed, Gordon didn't see the rapid emotions flick in quick succession across his brother's face. His throat suddenly dry, John flicked the switch, allowing the darkness to take over the room.

"Love you too, kiddo." Pulling the door almost shut, John leant back against the wall. He was exhausted. He had been more emotional today than he had been for over a year, allowing all the built up frustrations to come pouring out. He felt bad it was Scott who had borne the brunt of his explosion, but knew at the same time that he was the brother who most needed him. Gordon may have liked having him around to play with, but Scott genuinely needed John.

Heading back down the stairs, John passed Virgil on the way; apparently he was off to bed as well. Heck, it had been a hard day on all of them. Ruffling his kid brother's hair on the way past, John re-entered the lounge, crashing down on the sofa next to Scott.

"Whoa," he sighed, leaning back against the soft cushions.

"Yep," Scot responded, pulling his feet up under him. Turning to face his brother, Scott was surprised when John suddenly started talking. The blond didn't stop, telling Scott anything and everything. It was clear that a year of bottling everything up had taken its toll on the younger boy, and once he started, there was just no stopping him. Not that Scott wanted to stop him. He had missed his brother over the last year and, realising John needed to simply talk, was more than happy to sit and listen.

The clock ticked away as the brothers talked, but eventually, John couldn't hide his yawns any longer. With a rueful smile at his younger sibling, Scott gave him a push towards the stairs.

"Bed," he said simply. Stretching, John smiled and headed towards the stairs, too tired to argue.

"Night, Scotty. And thank you, for everything. I really don't know how you've managed these past few weeks. I'm so sorry."

"Night John. Sleep well." Watching his brother's retreating back, Scott caught himself by surprise as he suddenly let out an enormous yawn. Pushing himself off the sofa, Scott headed up the stairs as well. Not bothering to undress, Scott simply fell onto his bed, the emotions of the day meaning the teen was asleep before his head had properly hit the pillow.

**Aww, bit of a fluffy chapter there! Reviews? Thoughts? Opinions? Criticisms? Want them all! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry, this is a slightly shorter chapter than the previous ones, but you'll know at the end why I stopped it where I did.**

**Oooh, how scary is this, I'll have survived almost a week at uni by the time I next update - spooky!**

**Enjoy and don't forget to review. Major thanks to all of you who have done!**

It was still dark when the boy awoke. Glancing at his clock, Scott groaned when he saw it was only registering two o'clock in the morning. Making to turn over and go back to sleep, he suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, certain of two things. One, Alan was whimpering in his sleep again, and two, there was someone moving about downstairs.

Tiptoeing from his room, Scott crept into Alan's room. The toddler was still asleep, but stirring restlessly. Scooping him into his arms, Scott carried the child from the room, anxious not to awaken Gordon in the process. At the top of the stairs he paused. A shadowy figure was making its way to the bottom step. As the shadow began to climb, Scott felt his heart jump through his chest, suddenly realising who the shadow was.

"Jeez, Dad, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jumping violently at the voice, Jeff peered blearily up the stairs, just making out the figure of his oldest son standing there. His own heart beginning to settle back down, Jeff continued to climb the stairs.

"What are you doing up, Scott?" he asked, his voice sounding as bad as he looked.

"Alan had a bad dream," Scott responded, rocking the now calm toddler back into a more peaceful sleep.

"You got him?" his father asked, pausing at the top of the stairs just long enough to peer down at his sons. At Scott's nod, he stumbled his way into his room, shutting the door behind him as he did so, missing the hurt look he had just caused to flicker over his boy's face. Unable to believe his father, Scott carried Alan back into his own room. He hadn't even offered to look after the toddler himself, instead assuming that Scott had everything under control as he usually did, despite the fact that it was some unearthly time in the morning.

Tucking Alan into his own bed, Scott grabbed the spare blanket and covered himself with it, sitting back in his chair, determined to keep an eye on his youngest brother. It was not unusual for Alan to have more than one bad dream in a row. At least this way, it would avoid the risk of him waking up Gordon.

On this occasion, however, the teen was wrong. He knew nothing until he could hear Alan chatting away quietly to himself. Stretching his stiff back, Scott smiled when he caught sight of his younger brother disappearing under the covers.

"I wonder where Alan could be," he pondered loudly, creeping closer to the bed. A muffled giggle caused him to smile as he reached the bed.

"He couldn't be…_here?_" Using one hand to pull back the covers, Scott used the other to seek out the ticklish ribs. Within a matter of seconds, he had Alan squealing with laughter. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, John appeared in the doorway, smiling at the sight in front of him.

"Mor…mornin'," he yawned, barely awake.

"Morning," Scott responded happily, tucking a still giggling Alan under his arm.

"Dad already left?" he asked his younger brother, joining him on the way down the stairs.

"Did he even come home?" John asked, opening the kitchen door and letting Scott carry Alan through first.

"Mmmm hmmm. Around two. Do you mind getting Gordon?"

"What about Virgil?"

"I can't remember the last time Virgil ate breakfast, I can't get him up." Nodding his understanding, John left the kitchen, leaving Scott to get Alan's breakfast.

"It's so nice having him back, isn't it Allie?" Banging his spoon on the table, the toddler announced exactly how he felt about having John return to them. A sudden squeal made Scott step sharply away from the door, just in time to avoid his usual morning time flattening as Gordon came pelting full speed into the room. That kid couldn't do anything slowly.

"Where's Johnny got to, Gords?" Gordon, however, was not listening, instead opting for sitting under the table, pushing his rubber fish along the tiled floor. Scott's question was soon answered though. A sudden yell resonated throughout the house, causing the oldest brother to poke his head out of the door in concern.

"John?" His call received no answer, but he soon realised why by the accompanying shout.

"John! What are you doing?" To Scott's amusement, John appeared at the top of the stairs, a struggling Virgil draped over his shoulders. Judging by the angle the artist's hair was sticking up at, Scott knew John must have pulled him straight from his bed. Boy, he envied his brother's bravery. Carrying his prize into the kitchen, John dumped Virgil on one of the chairs before standing back to admire his handiwork.

"And you said you couldn't get him up." Sounding extremely satisfied with himself, John plonked himself on one of the remaining chairs before pulling the cereal towards him and dishing out five bowls full. It was only when he realised his oldest brother hadn't moved that John looked up, only to be met with a highly amused look.

"What?" he asked blankly. Shaking his head, Scott joined them at the table, still smiling.

"Nothing. I need to go into town this morning, anyone want to come?"

An hour later and Scott stood by the front door, waiting for the last brother to join them. He had expected them all to make some sort of excuse, only leaving Scott with Alan. Instead, John had opted to come, which meant Gordon, having finally emerged from under the table, instantly joined in as well. Not wanting to stay at home on his own, Virgil eventually agreed to come too. Despite his grumbling, Scott knew he really wanted to be around his brothers, especially with the old John back. Virgil could kick up a much more impressive argument than that if there was something he really didn't want to do. Finally, Virgil came flying down the stairs, trying to pull his shoes on at the same time, and they were off.

The journey into town took no time at all, and John agreed to go with Virgil to buy some paint supplies whilst Scott took care of the more "grown up" business, as Gordon liked to call it. With arrangements to meet in the small coffee store in an hour, the boys went their separate ways, John and Virgil a lot quicker as they were not burdened down with the younger ones.

Picking up the supplies they needed, Scott treated Alan and Gordon to a special treat each before heading back to meet up with the others. His hopes for the redhead had been right. Whilst Gordon had appeared happy enough beforehand, apart from the occasional nightmare about the accident, the transformation that had come over the boy at having his own hero back was remarkable. Sitting him in the seat next to the window, Scott ordered the drinks whilst waiting for the other two to turn up, knowing Gordon would alert him the second they came into sight. The youngster did just that, jumping up and down excitedly in his seat when he saw John come around the corner.

Entering the store with a long-suffering sigh, John grabbed his steaming mug in both hands, anxious to try and defrost his limbs. There was a cold breeze blowing, and although it was nice and warm within the store, it didn't take long to feel the effects once you left the pleasant atmosphere. Just as Virgil was tentatively taking a sip of his own drink, a voice sounded behind him, making him jump in surprise and almost spill the hot chocolate all down himself.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Tracy clan out in full."

"Mr Samson," Scott responded with a smile, handing Virgil a pile of tissues. The giant man had sat in the table behind them, a young lady with him that could only be his wife, judging by the adoring looks she was giving him. The toddler Scott had met yesterday at the kindergarten was bouncing up and down excitedly on her lap, another indication as to her identity. Before any more conversations could develop, Virgil suddenly gasped.

"I've left the canvas in the store!" he exclaimed suddenly, looking horrified.

"I'll take you," Scott said with a sigh, handing Alan over the table to John. "Be good, Gordon. Won't be a moment."

Leading his brother out of the store, the two Tracys made their way back towards the art store. They had just reached half way, when a hand suddenly shot out of a side alley, grabbing Virgil. His cry of alarm instantly had Scott racing into the darkened alley himself, only to find his brother being gripped by a large man.

"Let him go!" Scott snarled, his fist clenching up. Not giving the man time to answer, he swung, punching him straight in the face and causing him to drop the terrified boy. Racing to Scott's side, Virgil pressed himself closer into his brother, gasping in horror as he looked back towards the main street. Their way back was cut off as three more men appeared out of nowhere, blocking the alley. Eyes calculating, Scott sprang forward. With a couple of well aimed kicks, the schoolboy fighting paying off for once, Scott grabbed Virgil by the arm, swinging him over the fallen men.

"Run! I'm right behind you, Virg. Go! Get out of here!" Propelling his brother forward, Scott felt an immense amount of satisfaction as Virgil burst out onto the street again, his legs carrying him far away. Making to follow him, Scott jumped over one of the men, only to have a hand catch hold of his ankle, bringing him crashing back down to the ground. Winded, Scott didn't have time to react as a soaked rag was quickly placed over his mouth and nose, the foot in his back preventing him from wriggling away. Unable to hold his breath any longer, Scott accidently breathed in deeply, inhaling the fumes as he did so. Immediately, the young man could feel his head begin to spin sickeningly and before a moment had passed, he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

"One's better than none," one of the men muttered. Voicing their agreement, the men disappeared from sight down another alleyway, the largest of them pausing to sling Scott over his shoulder as if he was no more than five, not a well built sixteen year old.

**Hmm... did anyone see that one coming?**

**Let me know what you thought?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for leaving you in suspense! But on the other hand, I'm still alive, I've survived almost a week at university. Just absolutely knackered now!**

**Enjoy and please let me know what you think! Ooh, a huge thank you to all of you who have reviewed, especially Whirlgirl to whom i can't respond, your reviews always make me smile!**

John bounced Alan on his knee, half listening to Gordon's tales about why the fish like to live in the water. They were all pretty far-fetched, but the redhead seemed to enjoy inventing them, not really caring if his older brother wasn't paying him that much attention. Suddenly, the door burst open violently and John felt the colour drain from his face as he caught sight of Virgil flying through the door, tears streaming down his terrified face.

"John, they've…Scott…he…"

"Whoa, Virgil. Slow down. What's happened? Where is Scott?"

"They've taken him!" the boy cried, dissolving into a fresh wave of sobs as his legs gave way in the middle of the café floor. Hastily sitting Alan next to Gordon and ordering them not to move, John sprang to his feet. Dropping to his knees next to his brother, John firmly took hold of Virgil's shoulders, forcing the boy to look at him.

"Who's taken him, Virgil?" The young artist, however, was too far gone to be able to answer his brother.

"It's alright, son." A third voice entered the conversation as Samson scooped the hysterical youth into his arms, once more placing him on the seat. The man was scared, he couldn't deny it. To have Virgil this worked up and no Scott in sight, something truly bad must have happened.

"Judy, call the police. Waitress, do you think we could have a glass of water over here?"

Taking control of the situation, Samson turned back to the Tracys to find John had slipped into the seat next to his brother, holding him close. His shoulders were tense, his knuckles white. Taking one look at their distraught brothers, Gordon and Alan also began to cry, not sure what was wrong, but just being able to sense something truly terrible had happened. Judy Samson leapt to her feet and planted herself in between the boys. With her own son on her lap, the kind hearted woman draped an arm around each of the youngsters, trying to hush them. Looking at her husband with fear in her eyes, Judy's face mirrored what Samson was feeling. What could they do?

"John. John, look at me." Turning the boy's head towards him, Samson felt his heart clench at the anguish in the boy's eyes.

"How can I contact your father? Is he at home? Work?"

"He'll be in a meeting," John whispered, his voice cracking. "He won't have his phone on."

"Is there an adult at home then, John? Who looks after you and your brothers when your father is at work?"

"Scott," John swallowed hard, trying to swallow the lump which seemed to have sprung up in his throat. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after the blond had realised what an idiot he had been and was desperately trying to make amends to his big brother. Tightening his grip around Virgil's shoulders, John leant his cheek against his younger brother's head, trying to hold back the tears which were beginning to trickle down his own face.

Samson once more caught Judy's eye at John's announcement. She looked shocked, and it was no surprise to the teacher as to why. He knew that there had to be a reason behind Scott's latest look, he had been far too pale for far too long. Feeling annoyed for not noticing sooner, Samson turned his attention back to the trembling John. Whilst he didn't want to push the boy, the man needed someone to be there to look after the boys. Before he was able to ask John anything else, the waitress appeared, several glasses of water balanced on her tray and a sympathetic look on her face. It appeared the entire shop, thankfully quite empty at the time, had just witnessed the drama. Handing the glasses to Virgil and John, she turned her attention back to their teacher.

"They have a grandmother who comes down quite frequently. I don't think she is local though, but she will definitely be here as soon as she can when she hears, sir."

"Thank you," Samson responded, just as quietly. Flicking his phone out, the man quickly scrolled through his list of numbers, searching for someone he knew would be happy to help. Hitting the call button, Samson couldn't help but notice his own hand shaking as he lifted the phone to his ear, but whether it was fear for the boy, or anger at their father, he could not say.

"Jenny Starle speaking."

"Jenny, hi. Brian Samson here. Sorry to disturb you on a Saturday, but I need your help."

"Brian? What's going on?"

"Scott Tracy has gone missing. I'm with his brothers in town at the moment, but I'm going to take them back to the house. Apparently there is a grandmother around; I was wondering if you had the contact details?"

"Sure. Do you want me to give her a call?"

"If you wouldn't mind. I'm going to take the boys home, they need to be somewhere they feel safer. Can you give me a call once you've spoken to her, or better yet, give her my number?"

"Tell you what, I'll meet you back at the Tracy household. I have a feeling you may need some help with them, think the grandmother lives about an hour away. Even if Judy is there, you won't be able to look after them all as well as your own, Greg. I'll stay until she arrives."

"Thanks, Jenny."

Hanging up the phone, Samson looked around just in time to see the police car pull up outside, sirens wailing. Two officers jumped out and walked coolly into the shop. Their glance around told them all they needed to know about who had made the call. Coming to a stop in front of the table, one of the officers raised his eyebrows, obviously trying to take in the sheer number of children all sitting at one table.

"Their brother has just been taken by…someone," Samson informed them immediately, not liking the look on their faces.

"A someone?" The officer with the disbelieving expression asked, looking almost amused.

"Yes!" Virgil suddenly shouted, pushing John's arm away and springing to his feet, glaring at the said officer. Trying to keep his voice steady, the youngster continued to yell.

"We went to get my canvas and some men grabbed me. Scott scared them off and I ran, but he never followed me!"

"Virg-," John said quietly, trying to calm his brother. Shrugging off the calming hand, Virgil continued to glare, anger pumping through him at the expression on the man's face. He didn't look like he believed a word of it.

"And who are you, sir? Their father?"

"No, I'm a teacher at the older ones' school. My wife and I were here when Virgil came running back in, terrified."

"Indeed. And the adult present with these boys is..?"

"At work. Scott was looking after them for…the morning." Hoping the officer didn't notice his pause, Samson shot John a reassuring glance. Whilst he might be furious with Tracy for not being there for the boys, he didn't want to bring that up now. Scott was the pressing issue here, not his illusive father.

"And so no one witnessed this apart from this child?" Bristling at being called a child, Virgil made to say something else, but John caught his arm and pulled him back on the seat, keeping him quiet.

"You know what I think?" The officer sighed, looking bemused. "It's the same story all the time. Older brother gives the younger ones the slip so he can go and meet up with some girl. He'll turn up again later." With that, the two officers walked out of the shop again, the two older Tracys and the Samsons staring after them in disbelief. A fresh set of tears spilling over from his hazel eyes, Virgil made no attempt to wipe them away, instead letting them roll down his cheeks unchecked. He could feel John's hand trembling and knew the older boy was also in tears, the officer's abrupt dismissal making the shock of what had happened leak into pure fear.

"Come on, boys, I'm taking you home. You should all fit in the car." His voice remarkably steady, Samson picked Alan up, ignoring the screaming protest emitted from the toddler and took Virgil by his upper arm, steering the boy out of the shop. Judy slowly stood herself, balancing Greg on one hip and holding out her hand to Gordon. The redhead completely ignored it though, instead racing to John's side and pressing his trembling frame against the older boy. With some difficulty, John picked the seven year old up, his arms straining in the effort, and carried the boy outside, following Samson's retreating back.

It was a silent journey back to the Tracy house, John only making small comments regarding directions. As the big family car pulled up outside, the blond immediately climbed out before picking Alan up and taking Gordon's hand. Virgil followed slowly, as if in a trance. His eyes watering, John struggled to pull his key out of his pocket and get it into the lock. Unable to slide the key in because his hand was shaking so much, the older boy suddenly cried out.

"Damn key! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Kicking at the door in frustration, he barely noticed the hand pluck the key from his clenched fist and turn it swiftly in the door, nor how Gordon suddenly tightened his grip on his big brother's hand at hearing his anguish. Miss Starle gently pushed the boys into the house, standing back to let the Samsons pass before entering herself. Flicking on some lights, she immediately noted that John had not moved, and was simply standing in the hallway, still holding Alan and clutching Gordon's hand tightly. Virgil was directly behind him, his head resting on John's shoulder. Glancing away, Jenny Starle exchanged looks with Judy before giving the boys a push towards the lounge. Conversing in low tones, the two women stood in the hallway, unsure of what to do next. Judy quickly filled the kindergarten teacher in regarding all that had happened, both Virgil's explanation and the police's abrupt dismissal.

"How could he be so damn irresponsible?" Samson suddenly interrupted, taking Greg from his wife and holding his baby boy close to him.

"Brian, shh, the boys will hear."

"But Judy, the man left his sixteen year old son in charge of four younger ones, one of them only being- how old is Alan? Two?"

"Mr Tracy isn't around?" Jenny asked, disbelief causing her to forget to lower her voice. Judy quickly hushed her and glanced into the lounge anxiously, but the four boys remained still, lost in whatever troubled thoughts were plaguing them. Even Alan had fallen silent, sitting on John's lap, an infectious sadness radiating out from the child. The toddler didn't know what was going on; he only knew that he wanted his Scotty.

"No. Scott's been the one looking after them. And from the state of the boy and what you said yesterday, Tracy hasn't been around for a while."

"I have their grandmother's number here; it was given as one of the emergency numbers for Alan. I'll give her a call. Why don't you see if you can help the boys?" Speaking softly, Jenny crossed the hall and found herself in a kitchen, one that looked like it had been recently spring cleaned. Watching her retreating back with a small frown pinched between his eyes, Brian bounced Greg up and down, trying to portray his devotion to the child in the simple action. Meeting his wife's gaze, Brian opened his mouth, only to be cut off by her warningly shaking her head. Before he could question her meaning behind cutting him short, Judy entered the lounge.

Crouching in front of the sofa, Judy rested one hand on Virgil's knee and the other on Alan's back. Immediately withdrawing from the youngster as Alan gave a whimper and tightened his grip on John, the woman caught the older boy's eye.

"John?" she began softly. Not quite knowing what she was going to say, but knowing that she needed some way of expressing her sympathy and reassurance for the family, Judy trailed off.

"Don't." John stated, meeting her gaze head on. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to know that an almost stranger felt sorry for them. What good would that do? It certainly didn't make the older boy feel any better, not when he had a trembling Gordon pressed into one side, a silent Virgil on the other and a distraught Alan on his lap.

"Want Scotty," Alan suddenly mumbled into John's neck, sounding as exhausted as John felt, even though it wasn't yet lunchtime.

"I know, Al. So do I."

Holding out her arms, Judy indicated that she would take the toddler from the boy, but John obstinately shook his head, clinging even tighter onto his little brother. Judy smiled sadly, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She wasn't surprised; somehow she couldn't help but think that there would be no splitting these four up for some time. Not until their grandmother arrived.

"Ju?" Hearing Brian's soft call from the open door, the kind woman shot the boys one more concerned look before standing and crossing the room, plucking her own baby from her husband's arms. Holding Greg close, Judy then turned her attention to Jenny emerging from the kitchen, snapping her phone shut as she did so.

"Ruth Tracy is on her way. I felt bad for not being able to tell her more, but there is nothing that can be done about that. How are the boys?"

"Not good," Judy responded quietly, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. Not able to see into the lounge because of the angle of the wall, she traded glances with the other adults.

"How about I talk to John and Virgil and you ladies take the younger ones?" Brian suggested suddenly, a small frown creased in between his eyes. "I know them best, and Jenny, you know Alan."

"It's no use." Judy sighed. "They don't want to know, they especially don't want to be split up. I don't think John will allow it. I think it is just best to wait for Mrs Tracy."

"Where are they?" Jenny suddenly exclaimed, poking her head around the lounge door. Hastily crossing the hallway, the others quickly joined her, echoing her surprise when they saw the lounge was empty. Hearing muffled footsteps from upstairs, the three caught each other's eyes.

"I'll go," Jenny muttered, making her way up the stairs. Following the noise, she gently pushed open a bedroom door and discovered the location of all four boys. John was sitting on a chair, rocking Alan in his lap, his face a picture of misery. Virgil was curled up on the bed, clutching a pillow close to his chest, whereas Gordon was sitting glumly on the end of the bed, the closest spot possible to John. A quick glance at the posters of the Air Force on the wall and the general style of the room, and Jenny knew within an instant it belonged to the oldest Tracy brother.

"John?" Jenny called softly, but none of the brothers moved. It was almost as if they couldn't hear her, too wrapped up in their own thoughts to notice a non-Tracy attempting to get through. After a couple of failed attempts, Jenny gave up and headed back down the stairs to report on the latest situation. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a figure appeared on the other side of the door, their silhouette signalling their arrival the second before the doorbell rang. Sighing, Jenny checked her watch, unable to believe an hour had passed already, but sure enough, they had been so worried about the boys, just over an hour had disappeared. Pulling the door open, Jenny caught sight of the top of a silver-haired head, almost buried beneath the numerous things the lady was carrying.

"Mrs Tracy?" the kindergarten teacher questioned, plucking some of the belongings out of her arms. "Jenny Starle, we spoke on the phone." The older woman nodded as she stepped through the door, her eyes instantly drawn to the stairs. Without having to ask, the grandmother knew where to find her grandsons.

"Let me take these for you, ma'am." Brian appeared in the doorway and relieved Ruth Tracy of her load in one swift movement, his large arms not straining in the slightest as he balanced it all precariously in his arms. Judy came through from the lounge, a grizzly Greg clutched close to her.

"Brian and Judy Samson," Brian continued, watching the old woman carefully. She looked both distraught and in control at the same time, a look he had recognised, although not to the same extremity, when he had interviews with parents regarding their child's behaviour. In a situation like this, it was something the man more than respected. Nodding her thanks to the man, Ruth wasted no time.

"Where are my boys?"

"Scott's room," Jenny supplied softly, astonished at how fast the old woman could move as she shot up the stairs.

None of the boys had moved as their grandmother burst into the room. Without a word, she plucked Alan from John's lap and perched on the edge of the bed, drawing Gordon close to her side. Gradually, Virgil unfolded himself and crept along the bed, sneaking into the firm embrace as well until all three felt a lot calmer than before. Only John refused to allow himself to be comforted. Standing suddenly, the blond disappeared out of the door and down the corridor, hearing but choosing to ignore the sigh that followed him out. Ruth knew precisely where her grandson was headed.

Feeling the others relax, Ruth stood back up, balancing Alan on her hip.

"Come along, my dears. We need to get you something to eat." Ushering the group along in front of her, Mrs Tracy sat Gordon and Alan down at the table, nudging Virgil into another seat before pulling out one of her famous pies, into which the three hungry boys quickly dug in.

"Where's John?" A voice called from the doorway, causing the old woman to turn to see Brian standing in the doorway.

"On the roof, most likely," Mrs Tracy responded with a sigh, before turning her attention back to feeding Alan. The youngster seemed to be too glum to enjoy the normal challenge of getting the food into his mouth, but his grandmother couldn't blame him. She knew the second she stopped everything would crash down on her and the old woman wouldn't be able to believe her little Scotty had gone missing.

"I'll go and see if I can find him," Brian supplied, receiving a grateful smile for his efforts. Climbing the stairs, the man followed the draught blowing from somewhere and soon found himself in a bedroom. The décor made him recognise the room as being John's, he knew enough about the youngster to recognise some of the posters, not to mention to pile of Math books perched precariously on the edge of the desk. The latch was loose on the window, obviously making it easy for the occupant to make his way back in again.

Crossing the room and sticking his head out, Samson was surprised to see John carefully balanced on the edge of the roof; his relaxed position making it apparent to the teacher this was a normal position for him. Not wanting to make the youth jump, Samson pressed against the window a little too hard, causing the wood to creak in protest and causing John to look around. One glance at the boy's face and Samson knew he had been crying, although he hastily pulled his sleeve across his eyes at seeing his teacher framed in the window.

"How are you holding up, buddy?" Samson asked softly, not wanting to sound patronising. John's previous reaction showed he was lost without Scott around. He clearly had no idea how he was supposed to deal with the others and worry about his missing brother at the same time.

"They'll find him, won't they sir?" John whispered quietly, not being sure if there was anyone else in the room and not wanting to sound weak in front of his brothers. Scott had coped for an entire year with sounding strong, yet John had no idea how he did it.

"Of course," Samson responded, feeling bad for giving the boy false confidence, but knowing it was up to him to say the right thing, the grandmother had her hands full at the moment. "You know Scott better than me; do you really think he would give up? Do you think he would want you to give up?"

"I guess," John whispered hoarsely, pulling himself across the roof with ease before casually swinging himself back through the window. At his teacher's astonished expression, John shrugged.

"I like star gazing."

"You should try out for the gymnastics team, Tracy. You're good." Smiling softly at the praise, John led the way back downstairs, the smells from his grandmother's cooking wafting up and tempting him down.

**Hmm...not a lot actually seemed to happen there. Let me know anyway?**

**For anyone that is confused about the reaction of the police, bear with me, it gets explained later!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews, they really mean so much to me!**

Scott was acutely aware of the stifling heat as he slowly came round. With a sudden lurch, the teen felt the heat pressing down on him in the enclosed space, making him wonder if he was in a car trunk. The only cool thing he could feel was the harsh metal cuffed around his wrists, keeping them firmly behind his back. A burning thirst was at the back of his throat, making him cough harshly, but to no relief. Feeling a trickle of sweat run down his forehead and into his eyes, the teenager surrendered back into the welcome realm of unconsciousness, praying it would relieve him from the burning heat.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Jeff Tracy watched his opponent carefully. He had been told he was crazy not to allow this man to take over his business; his ruthless methods had always got him what he wanted in the past. But Jeff was different. He was not one to be bullied into submission, just because the man was rich. And besides, his opponent had signed a contract promising that if anything should fall through by a fault of his own, Jeff would automatically gain control of his business. It was something Jeff had never been met with before, but he was not going to complain. With a fledgling of a business just beginning to take off, Jeff had no intentions at all of selling. He was determined he was going to give his sons the best he could, and selling up so soon after establishing himself in the business world was not the way to do it. Watching him guardedly, Jeff felt as if he was locked in a staring contest, not unlike the ones his boys had, only with a much bigger prize. Still, he was determined not to back down on this, especially as many close friends had already been bought out and then watched as this man went back on his promises and destroyed the business.

A door softly opened at one end and Jeff glanced away for just enough to time to see his PA walk in, looking horrified. With a jerk of her head, the reliable woman motioned to Jeff, who frowned in return. He knew Nicole, she wouldn't disturb him unless it was something extremely important. Giving her a curt nod, Jeff stood and excused himself from the meeting, not liking how smug his opponent looked.

Flicking his phone open as he left the board room, Jeff frowned at the number of missed calls he had. Most of them were from the home number, but a couple were from some unknown mobiles and one was even from his mother. Before he had time to think any more on it, however, Nicole came into his sight, tears running down her face.

"Oh Mr Tracy, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do; it said not to call the police."

"Easy, Nicole, take it easy. What is going on?"

Instead of answering her boss, Nicole simply gestured towards the laptop screen. His frown deepening, Jeff slid into the seat and found himself looking at a web cam broadcast. With a sense of unease, Jeff hit play, and couldn't stop himself from crying out when he saw what was on it.

Jeff was faced with the sight of his oldest son curled up in the trunk of a car, unconscious and handcuffed. Unable to tear his eyes aware from the horrific sight, Jeff felt his breath catch in his throat as an unidentified voice sounded the demands, the camera never leaving Scott's still face. He was both flushed and pale at the same time, the heat of the car obviously having got to him. For a horrible moment, Jeff wondered whether his baby was still alive, but the kidnappers seemed to have thought of that. A gloved hand came into vision and easily lifted the boy out of the car before unceremoniously dropping him onto the hard concrete floor. Once again, Jeff couldn't help but cry out as Scott stirred on the impact, giving enough evidence he was still alive without waking up.

The transmission ended, but not before Jeff was informed fully of who was behind it. They may not have named Blag by name, but Jeff knew enough to know the man sitting so smugly in the board room only a few metres away was the one responsible. Everyone had warned him the man used callous methods to get what he wanted and now it seemed Jeff Tracy had just discovered quite how callous these were.

Ignoring Nicole's worried look, Jeff stormed back into the board room and marched straight up to Blag, barging through the man's supposed security on his way. Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, Jeff could feel the sparks leaving his eyes, yet the man didn't even wince.

"Give. Me. My. Son. Back."

"I assure you, Tracy, I haven't a clue what you are talking about." At the man's smooth reply, Jeff drew his fist back in fury, but found himself being pulled away as the security reacted. Almost hanging between the huge men, Jeff could only glare as Blag arrogantly made his way to his feet. Striding forward so he was nose to nose with Jeff, he bought his knee sharply up, straight into Jeff's stomach, winding him in the process. Doubled over, winded, Jeff could only glare as Blag bent down, his voice so quiet Jeff knew he was the only one who could hear his words.

"Pull out, and he'll be returned unharmed. Carry on the way you are going and we'll go after the others as well. Tut tut, five sons, hey? That means five easy targets. The oldest we have, how easy do you think it will be now to go after the others without him there?"

Laughing at the look of helplessness on Jeff's face, Blag motioned to his guards and they pulled the broken man from the room, bodily slinging him into corridor beyond. Nicole instantly rushed over, intent on helping her boss to his feet, but she couldn't move him. Jeff simply sat on the floor where he had landed, too shocked to move. He knew he hadn't been the best of fathers lately, but he had been anxious to get the business moving so the boys could have whatever they wanted. But now? With Scott's still face burnt into his mind, Jeff suddenly snapped. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he snatched the laptop up from the table and marched out of the building, only one thought in his head: getting home.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

The table cleared, the younger ones in bed and Virgil curled up with their grandmother downstairs, John once more found himself on the roof. He couldn't help it; it was as if the stars simply called to him. There was no need for his telescope to seek out the one star he was looking for; it always seemed to shine brighter than the rest, especially when he needed her. Staring long and hard, John didn't notice his eyes fill with tears until they began to spill over onto his cheeks. However, the blond made no move to brush them away, not seeing the point. It wasn't as if it would brush away the pain he was feeling.

"Please, Mom," he whispered, staring intently at the star. Even though it was only a recently discovered one, the teenager could locate it within seconds. Little did his brothers know he was out here nearly every night after they had gone to bed, trying to ease his aching heart by reassuring himself that his mother was still watching over them all.

"Don't let this happen, we need him. Please, look after my big brother. The way he looks after us."

How long John stayed motionless on the roof, he didn't know. He heard the vague sounds of Virgil being put to bed, the younger boy kicking up a fuss about being left on his own, which was hardly surprising considering what he had witnessed. The soft voice of his grandmother came floating through the open window as she gently calmed him. Shortly afterwards, the sound of the door and cars starting signalled the exit of the Samsons and the kindergarten teacher. They had been wonderful, but John was glad they were going. It wasn't their grief.

Not long after that though, a sound could be heard that filled John with a new emotion. Anger. His father was home.

Swinging himself through the open window, John crept to his bedroom door, listening intently. He could make out the hushed tones of his grandmother and father as they conversed in the hall, before the voices disappeared into the lounge. Stealing down the stairs, John held his breath as he stopped outside the shut door. He could just about make out the murmur of voices from the other side and knew enough to tell that his father knew what had happened. He had only heard him sound that broken once before. But somehow, that knowledge did nothing to soothe the boy. In fact, the opposite occurred, his anger and frustration boiling over. If Jeff hadn't been so broken when they had lost their mother, they would never have been in this situation. Had he honestly thought he was the only one hurting? John knew it was completely irrational, but the furious part of him blamed his father for his brother's absence. Therefore anything that happened to Scott, anything at all, was Jeff's fault. So caught up was he with his fury that John didn't hear the voices stop, nor the footsteps cross the lounge. He noticed nothing until the door directly in front of him opened and a broken man was standing in the door frame, looking surprised to see his second born directly in front of him.

"Son? What are you doing up?" The complete irrelevance of the question made John scowl at the figure in front of him. It was as if Jeff was trying to act as if nothing had happened, as if Scott would still be upstairs. As if the last year hadn't happened.

Taking a step back at the glare he was receiving from the elder of his blond sons, Jeff glanced back towards his mother, but she was frowning in concern at his son instead. After a moment, a strange expression came over the old lady's face and she crossed the room. Dropping a light kiss onto John's untidy hair, she left father and son to it, knowing John needed to let things out in the open.

"John? What's wrong?"

"Like you don't know," John suddenly snarled, beyond furious. He wasn't even sure what he was so mad at, the fact Jeff hadn't even mentioned Scott yet, or the fact he was trying to fulfil the role he had neglected for so long.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man!" Jeff snapped, cursing himself for not being gentler with his son. What he really wanted was to scoop all of his boys into his arms, promising them that everything would be alright and that he was trying everything he could to find their brother. To tell them all how much he loved them, that he wouldn't stop until Scott was back in his arms. But instead, he was face to face with a positively fuming son, with no idea what he had done to cause the sudden outbreak.

"I'll talk to you how I damn well please," John yelled, biting his cheek to try and stop himself from crying. "What would you know about what is wrong? It's not as if you are around to notice _anything_. Not Alan's nightmares, nor Virgil's moodiness. You probably haven't even noticed you are missing a son. So, hmm, yeah, I wonder what could possibly be wrong!"

"Don't you dare, John Tracy." Jeff suddenly whispered, his voice furious. John dropped his eyes to the floor, not prepared to meet his father's gaze. "How dare you think I haven't noticed? You weren't the one receiving the video of your brother. You weren't the one facing the man you know is responsible and yet not being able to get your son back."

"Then you are probably not trying hard enough," John snapped, refusing to let go of his anger. He needed to rage at the man who had driven a wedge between him and his only older brother, needed to once more voice his frustrations. "You were losing him long before those creeps got him. All you care about is your work, certainly not any of us."

But he had gone too far. Involuntary, Jeff felt his hand beginning to rise before the father caught himself, forcing it back to his side. He couldn't lose control, not now. Unfortunately, John had caught sight of the action, and knew precisely what his father had come very close to doing. Watching his father cautiously, John felt the tears building up in his eyes.

"I knew it," he choked, only just being able to form the words. "You don't care about any of us."

With that, John turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs, leaving a distraught father in his wake. His own tears trickling down his face, Jeff was unable to believe what he had just done. He had never raised a hand to any of his boys, but the accusing note in John's tone had made him snap. It felt like a knife had been driven into his guts, the blade twisting mercilessly. Knowing he had to do something before he went mad, Jeff quickly strode into his office, the dreaded laptop watching him from the desk. He desperately wanted to go to John, but knew the boy needed time to calm down first, or things would only get worse. In that sense, he was far too like his mother, his temper matching Lucille's perfectly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here we are, the next chapter. Time is going so quickly at the moment!**

**Many many thanks to all of those wonderful reviews, they light up my day!**

With a shaking hand, Jeff lifted the lid to the laptop, just as a screen popped open. Feeling his breath catch in his throat as he recognised it as being another web cam broadcast, Jeff swallowed hard, tears stinging the corners of his eyes again as he connected. He wanted nothing more than to run screaming from it, but knew that would not help him get his son back. As the screen flickered into life, Jeff scowled, the look on his face perfectly mirroring John's previous expression.

"Jeff." The mock friendliness in Blag's voice made Jeff want to pound his fist into the man's face, his anger growing at the smirk in Blag's expression. The man knew he was untouchable at the moment and was relishing the fact.

"Where is he?" Jeff growled, clenching his hands behind his back so Blag was unable to see how badly they were shaking. Jeff had confided in his mother all he knew about Blag, and from the accounts coming from his friends about the lengths this man would go to, knew she shared his underlying terror regarding his oldest.

"Who?" Blag mocked, smiling sadistically. "Your son?" So saying, the man moved over to the side and Jeff stifled a sob at seeing Scott. The boy was awake this time and Jeff couldn't help but feel a rush of pride and love at the defiant look on the teenager's face. Judging by the bruise on his cheek, he hadn't gone down without a fight. However, that wasn't helping him now, gagged with his hands tied behind him. His eyes, however, immediately sought Jeff's and the father knew he was looking at a live feed rather than a recording. Knew instantly that Scott could see him as clearly as he could see his son. Despite his watering eyes, Jeff offered his son a reassuring smile, trying to tell him without words that everything would be ok. However, what Scott could see, but Jeff couldn't, was the blond head poking around the door behind his father's back, his expression horrified at catching sight of the situation his brother was in.

"Pull out Tracy, or we come for the others." The friendliness, pretend or otherwise, was gone from Blag's voice this time as the two men glared at each other.

"Let him go," Jeff snarled, his hands flexing behind him. He could tell by Scott's eyes the boy was frightened, although he was trying his hardest not to show it.

"Pull out first. Sign over your business and then I'll let him go, maybe. Don't, and we start coming for the others." Jeff swallowed hard, but before he could say another word, something happened that made him jump in surprise. Something Jeff had forgotten and Blag didn't realise was the protectiveness the oldest brother felt for his younger siblings. No one threatened to go after his brothers in front of Scott Tracy.

Struggling to his feet behind Blag, Scott missed his father's nervous swallow as the teenager brought his foot up and kicked Blag as hard as he could. The man collapsed with a groan almost immediately and Scott smirked in a satisfied manner. Using his tongue, he managed to push the rag from his mouth.

"Dad…"

Before the youth could say anything else, figures burst into the room frantically, freezing momentarily when they saw their boss groaning on the floor. However, the surprise was not to last long and one of them quickly strode forward and seized Scott, forcing him to his knees and breaking the eye contact between father and son. With a thudding heart, Jeff could only watch as Blag struggled to his feet, his face red with humiliation. Without a second's delay, he backhanded Scott across the face, causing the teenager to gasp in pain and for Jeff to yell out in horror.

"Touch my son again…" Before his threat could be continued, Blag slowly drew a revolver from his belt, causing Jeff to break off. Absentmindedly twirling the weapon, Blag stared his opponent down.

"You have until tomorrow to sort out the deeds and contracts. If not…" Casually aiming the gun at Scott's head, Blag smirked before disconnecting the feed, leaving Jeff staring at a blank screen, tears pouring down his face. For a moment, Jeff couldn't move, he was too paralysed by fear. But then a small sob caught his attention and he spun sharply on the spot to find John standing directly behind him, eyes wide and terrified as they remained fixed on the blank screen. With a sinking heart, Jeff knew instantly the youngster had just witnessed the entire thing and knew precisely the type of threat they were now dealing with.

"John…" At his father's voice, John tore his eyes away from the blank screen, his previous anger having dissipated as the terror took over.

"You'll get him back, won't you?" the blond whispered, causing Jeff to immediately envelop John in a strong embrace, wondering whether his son could hear quite how hard his father's heart was pounding. The angry boy from earlier had vanished, leaving a terrified one in his wake as John once more turned to his father to fix things. Sighing deeply, Jeff knew immediately what had caused the reaction from before. John had needed him there to make things better after his mother's death and what had Jeff done? Left it to Scott.

"Or die trying," Jeff murmured into John's hair, sitting down on his chair and pulling his son onto his lap. He hadn't realised quite how much John had grown during the last year; he was getting heavy. It wouldn't be long before these sorts of hugs were a thing of the past. With the image of his brother burnt into his mind and everything that had happened over the last couple of days, John felt himself break, clinging to his father like he was a lifeline in the vast ocean of emotion.

"I'm s..s..sorry, Dad. I didn't mean it. I j…just want Scotty back."

Blinking rapidly, Jeff tightened his grip on his son, the anguish in his voice making his heart constrict.

"Shh. You have nothing to be sorry for, Johnny. I'm the one who should be saying sorry; I haven't been around for you boys. Tell you what though, I would give anything to have you hate me if it meant Scott was back here with us. John, you know I would do anything for you and your brothers, don't you son?"

John merely nodded, the tears not allowing him to form a proper sentence. Eventually, the sobs subsidised, and the late hour coupled with being emotionally drained meant John quickly drifted off, his fist still clutching tightly to the front of his father's shirt.

Stunned by the turn of events within a day, Jeff stared unseeingly into space, calling upon his beloved wife to protect them all. He knew the next day would be a busy one; it would take time to find the deeds for the business. For there was no doubt in Jeff's mind about what he had to do. He would give the business up ten times over if it meant getting Scott back, but what the Tracy patriarch was worried about was whether it would bring his son back to him. It wasn't just documents he needed to sort out, but legal advice as well. He needed someone he could trust not to make the situation for Scott worse, but to give Jeff some sort of loophole through which he could work. Unfortunately, this was not a situation Jeff had ever contemplated finding himself in, yet Blag seemed to know precisely how to play his opponent. With thoughts of his oldest son plaguing his mind, Jeff subconsciously returned John's vice-like grip as he surrendered to the exhaustion the emotions of the day had left him. At least he had one son back.

It was still dark when John woke again. For a moment, he couldn't place the feeling of dread that seemed to begin in his stomach and work its way up, penetrating his heart and making it feel heavy. He glanced up into the darkened room, his eyes falling on the laptop, still open on the desk in front of him. Stretching his stiff legs experimentally, John felt a rush of relief when Jeff didn't stir. Slipping off his father's lap, the blond tiptoed across the room, holding his breath as the floor creaked under his feet. He didn't want his father seeing this.

Reaching the desk, John hesitated, his hands hovering over the keyboard. Gritting his teeth, he forced them to stop shaking; ordering his heart to calm down or he wouldn't be able to think straight. Very, very slowly, the young genius lowered his hands to the machine and his fingers started to fly. Within seconds, he had pulled up the broadcast from before, forcing himself to ignore the image that was still present. He couldn't face the scared look in Scott's eyes. He had to still believe his brother wasn't scared of anything or the younger boy knew he would crack. Swallowing hard, John hit the return button and stepped back, biting his lip in anxiety. He could only hope this worked.

"Johnny?" Jumping at the quiet voice behind him, John spun sharply around to see a sleepy Gordon framed in the doorway, hands clutching a well loved dolphin. Giving his brother a reassuring smile, John smoothly shut the screen behind him, not wanting the younger one to see the image captured on it.

"What are you doing up, buddy?" the older boy whispered, crossing the room and pulling Gordon into a hug. He could feel the small form trembling slightly in his embrace, and frowning in concern, John drew back.

"What's wrong, Gords? Why are you down here rather than in bed?"

"Nightmare," Gordon whispered into John's top, his muffled voice almost lost in the fabric. With a heart clenching realisation, John knew that was precisely how he had sounded to Scott when he had broken down in Samson's office. Pulling his brother closer to him, John sat them both down on the floor, anxious that Jeff wouldn't hear them. Whilst the large part of John had accepted the fact his father was back, he couldn't rid himself of the anger still coursing through him. He may need his father, but that didn't mean he could forgive him, not yet. Not with Scott gone. Nor was he quite ready to let the illusive figure be the one Gordon turned to, he knew the kid needed more than that. And as much as he didn't want to admit it to himself, John knew he had to make up for his actions over the last year, not just to Gordon, but to all of them. Especially Scott.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Everyone was gone. Scotty, you, Virgil. Even Allie had disappeared and I was all on my own." Wiping away the younger boy's tears with his thumb, John pulled Gordon onto his lap.

"We're not going anywhere," he promised, trying to sound as convincing as he could. He didn't know whether Gordon could hear the tremble in his voice, or feel how hard his heart was thumping. He hoped not, it would do nothing to reassure the redhead.

"And Scott is coming back, you'll see. You know how stubborn he can be, Gords. Do you think he will give up until he is back at home with you? With us all?"

"Promise, Johnny?" Gordon asked, hope lining his voice and beginning to sparkle out of his eyes. John hesitated, not wanting to lie, but he was saved from answering by a third voice entering their conversation.

"Gordon? Why are you down here, son?" Peering blearily at his boys, Jeff squinted into the darkened room before slowly standing up, his leg numb from where John had been curled up. That boy was far too heavy to sit on Jeff's lap for that long now.

"He's fine," John interrupted quickly, not wanting to upset Gordon again. He knew he was being stubborn, but there was a part of John that simply wanted it to be him Gordon needed rather than their father. It gave him a sense of purpose, someone he had to be strong for rather than allowing his mind to dwell on what could be happening to Scott. One thing his brother was sure of, however, was that the oldest brother would not have slept in the comfort they had. Jeff opened his mouth to say something, but then the light flickering through from the hallway illuminated John's face. Something in his expression caused his father to pause, and instead Jeff merely nodded.

"Glad to hear Johnny's got you, Gordon. How about you get him back up to bed now, son?"

John nodded and swept Gordon into his arms. Already, the young boy was almost asleep again, the presence of his brother and father having been enough to drive the demons away. By the time John settled him back into his bed, the redhead was gone, his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. Alan was twisted in his blankets, thumb firmly in his mouth as his spare hand clutched a small bear. Straightening the blanket, John couldn't help but feel his heart clench with the realisation the bear was one of Scott's old ones. The toddler barely let it out of his sight as it was. John had a feeling they would be seeing a lot more of the bear in the near future. Once more pausing on the way out of his room, John couldn't believe it had only been 24 hours since he had last tucked the troublemaker in. It felt like days ago.

Slipping back down the stairs, John hesitated in the doorway to his father's office. Now he had himself under control from his earlier breakdown, there seemed to be an underlying uncertainty hovering between the two of them, both the anger and the worry creating a strange half way point. Before either of them could say anything, a shrill beep resonated through the room, causing Jeff to jump and John to rush forwards. Seeing his son head straight for the laptop, Jeff made to step in the way.

"John, please. I don't want you seeing-"

"Too late, Dad," John responded shortly, not wanting to admit to his father he had already faced what had reappeared on the screen after the transmission had ended. "Besides, I have to see this."

Not sure what his son meant, Jeff stepped back out of the way. As John lifted the lid, his father couldn't help but let a small gasp escape him as he caught sight of the picture, but John ignored it. Jeff could tell immediately by John's composure that he had already been back on the computer; something Jeff wasn't sure whether he was happy about or not. It showed his son was braver than him, but Jeff couldn't fathom why John would have returned to the screen so soon after seeing his brother struck and threatened.

Luckily, the two didn't have to face the picture of Scott for long. The second John opened the lid, a number of screens popped up, numerous codes, words and numbers flying across them at a tremendous speed. Watching John's face frown in concentration, Jeff had a feeling he knew what his son had done. Although perhaps more worrying was where on earth he had learnt how to do it. Not wanting to interrupt his son, Jeff stayed quiet; watching with the same intensity with which John was working. After a long few minutes of nothing, Jeff hesitantly spoke.

"Son? An…anything?"

"I wish I could say yes, Dad," John responded, sounding a lot older than his fourteen years. Although that was something Jeff could sympathise with, he felt like he had aged decades over the last few hours.

"It's not pulling up…no, no, no, please…damn it!"

"John," Jeff half heartedly rebuked, watching his second eldest carefully. To his dismay, the news could be read on John's face as the concentration slipped and the tears leaked their way out of the corner of his eyes.

"I think I may have just given your computer a virus."

"John?"

"Whoever this is, they know what they are doing. They knew I was trying to trace it. I've failed him, Dad. He was there for me and I've failed him."

"Don't you dare say that, John," Jeff whispered, wrapping his arms around his oldest blond. "None of this is your fault, it's Blag. Don't you dare blame yourself."

"I spent the last year ignoring him, Dad. I should have helped him, not ignored everything."

"No, John. I'm the one who should have been here. I'm the one who has failed him. I failed you all." With the realisation of what he had done and that it might just be too late to patch things up with his first born, Jeff found his legs no longer supported his weight, instead giving way at the knees and causing the Tracy patriarch to sit down on the floor rather suddenly. John stared at his father in a mixture of disbelief and horror, not quite sure what to make of Jeff's sudden behaviour. Luckily for him, his grandmother arrived on the scene, drawn by instinct that her family needed her despite it being some ungodly hour in the morning. Without a word, she led her grandson out of the room and up the stairs, tucking him into his own bed, ignoring the feeble protests she received for her efforts. The second the boy's head hit the pillow his eyes drifted shut, despite his obstinate protestations that he wasn't tired. Dropping a light but sad kiss on his untidy hair, Ruth tiptoed from the room. Right now it was time to sort out her son.


	8. Chapter 8

**We've got a completely Scott chappie here! Sorry that it is a little short!**

**Wow, thank you so so much for all of those incredible reviews, that really brighten up my day, thank you!**

It was dark when Scott awoke again, although the sky was just beginning to witness the first signs of dawn. Through the pounding that was his head, the teenager slowly became aware that he was lying on his stomach, hands bound beneath him this time. Frowning when he felt rough material under his cheek, Scott hesitantly sat up, noting he was lying on a bed, of all things. Slowly gaining his bearings, the youngster took in the bare room, the bed being the only object in it. Using his hands to push himself upright, Scott quickly set his teeth on the ropes, grinning when they made quick work of the badly tied knot. He made to get off the bed, but as he moved a wave of dizziness overtook him, making the teenager acutely aware of how long it had been since he had eaten. The way his head was throbbing was a merciless reminder that it had been just as long since he had last had anything to drink either, the heat from the car having dehydrated the youth.

Forcing the dizziness to recede, Scott spent a few moments sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to get his bearings. His head was thumping mercilessly, one eye reduced to a slit due to the puffiness. He was going to have a killer of black eye there. As he thought about what had happened, the teenager began to feel the other bruises, mainly on his arms from where they had pulled him away, but he knew without having to feel that he had a hand-shaped one across his cheek. Surprisingly enough, it was the much smaller one on the other cheek that caused him the most pain, not in his face, but in his heart. It was the one John had given him during their scuffle, something that felt like months ago. Judging by the early morning light filtering through the locked window on the other side of the room, it was just before dawn, meaning Scott had been missing almost a day.

He knew from Blag's gloating that someone had tried to trace the broadcast and Scott had a very good idea of whom. John was a genius when it came to computers, but even he wasn't able to match the technology at Blag's disposal. Shuddering slightly as he remembered the last time he was face to face with the man, Scott had a strong feeling he wasn't getting out of this, no matter what his father did. Not only had he humiliated Blag in front of his men, but the maniac had confided a lot in his young prisoner. Why would Blag tell him so much if he was then just going to let him go?

Suddenly filled with a fiery determination, Scott forced himself to stand, ignoring the wave of dizziness. He was going to get out of here, there was no way he could let the maniac go after his brothers. Crossing the small room in a matter of steps, Scott fruitlessly tugged on the door, but it didn't move an inch. He wasn't surprised, the small part of the building he had seen had all been reinforced as well. He certainly wasn't getting out that way.

Crossing the room, Scott headed towards the only escape route left open to him, the window. Trying to force it open, the teenager was not in the slightest bit surprised that it refused to budge as well. There must have been a reason they had only loosely bound his hands, after all. They had been so careful beforehand, never leaving him alone. They must have known there was no way out of the room, or they would have taken more precautions. Throwing himself against the window in frustration, Scott froze when he heard the smallest of noises, the slightest of creaks. Using his weight again, the youth grinned in satisfaction as the noise sounded again. It looked like it wasn't as secure as they had thought.

Even so, it took several hours before any difference could be seen. More than once Scott had been warned of approaching footsteps just in time to dart back to the bed and glare threateningly at whoever walked in. He debated trying to take one of them down, but quickly dismissed the idea when he caught sight of the armed guard waiting on the other side of the door; he certainly wouldn't get very far. With an aching shoulder, no doubt with added bruises to his impressive collection, Scott finally managed to push the protesting wood out far enough to make a small gap. It was going to be a tight squeeze, but the teenager was adamant that he would be able to make it. Knowing it was now or never, for there would be no covering up the damage if someone returned, Scott swung himself onto the ledge before forcing himself through the gap. For one awful moment, he thought he was truly stuck, but an added push and a wiggle later and the teenager dropped painfully onto the ground below, automatically rolling to break his fall.

He had been lucky. He hadn't fallen from much height and the well-kept grass beneath his window cushioned the fall, meaning it only took Scott a moment to regain his breath before he pushed himself to his feet. Judging by the light it was already mid-afternoon and from the threats made earlier in an attempt to scare the teenager, Blag himself was coming to visit his `guest` at some point in the afternoon, meaning Scott had to move, _now._

Keeping low to the ground, Scott sprinted off, heading towards the trees he could just make out in the distance. He only hoped his suspicions about them not being able to be seen properly from the building were true or he would be in big trouble. Luckily, something went right for Scott for the first time in a while, and the trees were not as far off as he initially thought. Darting into the cover of the trees, Scott threw himself behind one as he waited for his breath to catch back up with him again. The dizziness was getting worse, the added exercise coupled with the lack of food was truly making his head spin, black spots littering his vision. But Scott knew he had to keep moving, he was still far too close to the building to be comfortable.

Creeping from his hiding place, the teenager stole forward, wincing every time his foot cracked on a twig. There could be no telling who was patrolling the area. In a heart-stopping moment, Scott swore he heard a yell of outrage come from behind him, but when no one appeared to pursue him, Scott pushed on faster, not wanting to risk staying out any longer.

It was several hours later when the exhausted youth stumbled out of the woods and onto a narrow road, clearly the entrance to the village he could see on the horizon. Good. Villages meant people, people meant he would have some way to contact his father. Stumbling forward again, Scott felt his foot catch on an exposed root and he was sent pitching forwards, the material around his knee tearing as he hit the rocky floor. Lying where he fell, Scott rested his cheek against the coolness of the ground, not having the energy or the willpower to carry on any longer. As his eyes flickered shut, Scott was sure he was imagining the sound of a car engine purring up the road, but as the rocks under his cheek began to tremble slightly, the boy sprang up again, a newfound energy coursing through him. His face splitting into a picture of sheer delight, Scott couldn't believe his luck as the telltale signs of the police car came into his sight.

Jumping up and down, wildly waving his arms in the air, Scott grinned as the car began to slow down, revealing the two officers within. They cast each other a look as the car drew to a halt, the window slowly winding down.

"You alright, Son? You look a bit worse for wear."

"Please, you have to help me. There is this man, I only just managed to get away…please…" Aware that he was babbling, Scott cut himself off, looking pleadingly at the officers in the car. He couldn't tell what was going through their heads, but eventually the one who had addressed him climbed out of the car and opened one of the rear doors, gesturing for Scott to hop in.

"We'll get you back, son, don't worry."

Sliding gratefully into the coolness of the car, Scott sighed in relief, unable to believe he had actually managed to do it. In his exhausted state, he didn't hear the locks click on the doors, nor notice the fact that the car was turning around, beginning to head back the way it had come. Turning to look at his saviour in gratitude, Scott froze when he caught sight of the loaded syringe in the man's hand. Throwing himself at the locked door in horror, Scott beat on the door, desperately trying to make it open. When it remained obstinately shut, he instead turned towards the advancing man, who had been watching his efforts in something close to amusement.

Drawing back his fist, Scott swung forward, catching the man around the face with his hand. Immediately dropping the syringe as his hands flew to his stinging nose, the man let out a cry of frustration as Scott followed the punch with a well placed kick, scrambling for the far door as he did so. Throwing himself on the handle, Scott was not prepared for the door to open and he was sent sprawling onto the hard ground below as the car continued to move. The second he hit the floor, Scott jumped back to his feet and began to run again, not caring where his feet were taking him as long as it was away from there. He had some idea about heading back into the woods, knowing the car wouldn't be able to follow him there, but he was too late.

The moment Scott had left the car the driver had brought it to a sharp stop and leapt out, shouting orders at his moaning companion. It only took the man seconds to catch up with the exhausted boy, having the advantage of not only being well-rested, but also having eaten and drunk in the last twenty four hours. Grabbing the boy from behind, he ignored the yell that accompanied the action and smoothly drew the youth's arms behind him, almost as if he didn't feel the furious struggles. Pinning his wrists with one hand, the man then drew out the handcuffs, the only part of his uniform that wasn't a fake. With one sharp flick, he latched the cuffs around both of Scott's wrists and clicked them into place. The second the lock caught, Scott felt the fight go out of him, knowing that whilst he may have been able to break away from a person, he couldn't break free of metal. Dragging Scott back to the car, the fake officer then threw the boy into the back again, leaving his companion to deal with him. With no use of his hands, Scott certainly wouldn't be trying the same trick twice.

Watching the man guardedly from where he was sprawled across the seats, Scott felt the tears catch in his eyes as the man pulled another syringe out. Leaning back as far as he could to try and avoid the man's reach, Scott could feel the cool metal of the door pressing into his back, providing him with a harsh reminder there was nowhere else he could escape to.

"Please…" he whispered, aching all over from everything that had just happened. He couldn't take much more of this.

"Shouldn't have tried to escape then," the man responded nastily, before lunging forward. In one swift movement, he caught hold of one of Scott's arms and yanked it forward, sending the teenager sprawling backwards as both of his arms were jerked by the movement. Without any warning, the man emptied the contents of his syringe into Scott's arm, watching his captive carefully in case he tried anything. Immediately, Scott could feel the effects of the sedative course through his weakened body, already making his eyes flutter as he attempted to fight it off. Grinning as the drug took hold, the first man muttered something to his companion, who nodded in response. Flicking open his phone, Scott could just about make out the words before the darkness dragged him under.

"Package secure. We're heading back now, he isn't going anywhere."

**You didn't really think I was going to let him get away that easily did you? This is me! I have a habit of being mean to Scott! Let me know what you thought?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Never mind Blag wiping out Jeff's computer, something decided to wipe out mine yesterday! So for anyone who had realised I update every 6 days, I'm sorry I'm late with this! I literally couldn't turn the computer on, bit of a worrying moment. Especially as I should be doing essay prep... But it is all good now, nothing to worry about! :)**

Jeff wanted to scream. And stamp his feet in the way Alan still could. He had spent nearly the whole day with lawyers, trying to establish the best way of giving Blag what he wanted without risking Scott. At the same time, Jeff needed some sort of loophole through which he could pull out legally the moment he had his son back in his arms. As the lawyers had bickered amongst themselves as to the best course of action, Jeff had decided to risk phoning the police, although warning them it had to be carried out with complete secrecy. The man on the other end of the phone had agreed and told Jeff that he was sending his officers around to the house to question the boys and try to establish what had happened.

"Gentlemen," Jeff suddenly declared, standing up and forcing them to break off in their conversation. "This isn't helping my son, nor is it helping me. I'm going back home, I need to be with my boys."

"Of course, Mr. Tracy, we understand. And may I just…"

Walking out on the man before he could express his fake sympathy, Jeff rolled his neck slowly as he made his way back to the car, trying to alleviate some of the tension. He had heard nothing from Blag all day, and more than anything that scared him. He wasn't sure quite what lengths the man would go to, but by the way he had casually struck Scott the night before, Jeff didn't want to risk it. Only John had been awake when Jeff left the house that morning, already tapping away frantically on the laptop as if hoping he would somehow discover where his brother was hidden. Whilst he didn't want the boy to get any false hope, Jeff didn't bother trying to stop him, knowing himself that if he wasn't doing something that might potentially bring Scott back to them, he would go mad.

Jeff could honestly say that he paid no attention to the road at all on the way home, something he knew his mother would have his hide for if she found out. It wasn't just his sons Jeff wanted to get home to, he was seriously worried about the effect this was having on the old woman; she wasn't exactly in her prime any more. The only good thing about not paying much attention, despite the fact it was a miracle he made it home in one piece, was that the journey was relatively quick compared to normal, meaning Jeff was soon through his front door and almost being flattened as Gordon miserably hurled himself at his father, tears trickling down his face. The redness and puffiness of his eyes made Jeff inwardly groan, this had obviously been one hell of a screaming fit. The redhead had always been the worst of them when expressing something he didn't like. However, a gut feeling caused Jeff to frown. He had a strange feeling Gordon's misery wasn't entirely based on Scott's absence.

"Hey champ," Jeff began softly, hitching Gordon into his arms and carrying him through to the lounge before settling them both down on the sofa, absentmindedly wondering where the rest of the boys were.

"What's the matter with my little fish?"

"Don't like them," Gordon pouted, nestling further into his father's arms. Frowning at the top of the copper head sticking out from his arm, Jeff couldn't stop the wave of confusion.

"Don't like who, Gordy?"

"Policeman," The youngster mumbled, involuntary shuddering. Jeff felt the tremor and automatically tightened his arm around his son, but he needed to find out what this truly was about.

"Gordon, you know they are here to help Scotty, don't you? They are going to help us bring your big brother home."

"But they were mean about him, Daddy. And John nearly hit him." Giggling slightly to himself as he remembered the actions of the furious John, Gordon didn't see Jeff's reproachful look.

"And where is John?" Gordon, however, merely shrugged, snuggling closer into his father, needing the reassuring embrace. Picking Gordon up again, Jeff balanced him on his hip, noting how John wasn't the only one to have gotten heavy over the last year, and set off in search of his second oldest. He knew John was taking this hard, but even so, lashing out was not the behaviour he normally related to the calmest of his sons. Scott, yes, even Virgil, perhaps. But John? Never.

Having a sixth sense of where his son might be, Jeff located the boy within a matter of seconds, still working away on the laptop.

"John?"

"Hey, Dad," John muttered, his hoarse voice the only indicator that Gordon had not been the only one crying. Frowning at the back of the blond head, Jeff carefully put Gordon down.

"Go and find your grandmother, Gords," he instructed, giving his son a small nudge at the same time and sending the boy scurrying towards the bottom of the stairs. He obviously had more clue as to where to find the old woman than Jeff did.

"What do I hear about you nearly hitting a police officer, John Glenn Tracy?" Jeff asked, the warning all too clear in his voice. Immediately stiffening, John turned to face his father, fury blazing out of his eyes in a way Jeff had never witnessed before.

"He deserved it. First of all, he wouldn't let me stay with Gordon when they tried to question him. So I left, only to hear Gordon scream five seconds later. I go back in there and see one of them trying to pick him up for absolutely no reason. Well, you know how Gordon feels about strangers touching him. We finally got through that and they decided they were going to question me next. They asked all sorts of weird questions, Dad, nothing to do with Scott. And then…" His voice breaking off, John glanced away, misery taking the place of the fury. His own anger beginning to melt at both John's explanation and the misery, Jeff gently prompted his son for more. Meeting his father's gaze, John didn't try to hide the tears now pooling out of his eyes.

"And then they said some horrible things about Scott. What…what they were probably doing to him. What they would be prepared to do." Staring at his son in astonishment, Jeff truly didn't know what to say. This was not the sort of situation he had been expected to come home to.

"Where are they now?" Jeff asked, making John look properly at him for the first time. Jeff's eyes were hard and bright, anger spiralling out of them in a way that overtook even John's.

"Questioning Virg. He was there when…when it happened."

"Where?" Jeff questioned, determined to stop the officers from upsetting another son, if it wasn't too late. He had hoped calling the police would help matters, not make them worse.

"They've taken over the kitchen," John responded tonelessly, sorrow radiating out of his eyes as the anger disappeared. Just as Jeff made to walk out of the study, a loud crash resonated through the house, causing him to trade confused glances with John. Without a word, father and son went pelting through the house, skidding to a stop outside the kitchen door. Pushing against the wood, Jeff frowned when it refused to budge, obviously having been barricaded. As another crash sounded, followed by a muffled yell, Jeff yanked John out of the way, backed up a few paces and threw himself at the door, causing the aged wood to groan in protest but open enough to allow the two Tracys access to the room beyond.

"Virgil!" John yelled in horror as he followed his father in and caught sight of the predicament his younger brother was in. One of the `officers` was holding tightly onto the struggling boy, one hand clamped firmly over his mouth, explaining the muffled sound from before. The other had been in the process of tying the boy's hands with his belt when Jeff burst in, but now he drew back, smoothly removing his gun. Aiming it at the terrified boy, the officer glared at Jeff, his meaning clear. His jaw clenched in fury, Jeff pushed John behind him, shielding him not only from the supposed officers, but from whatever was going to happen next.

"He told you not to call the police or he would come from the others."

"Let. My. Son. Go!" Jeff snarled in fury, his eyes narrowed and calculating. As the man flicked the safety off on the weapon, Jeff froze, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.

"Please…" he whispered, hands trembling. This couldn't be happening. First Scott and now Virgil?

"That's what your son begged as well," the man sneered, watching closely as Jeff paled. "Right before we drugged him and dragged him back to Blag, screaming for his Daddy the whole time."

Laughing at the mixture of emotions on Jeff's face, the man signalled to his colleague and the two of them began to side step around him, pulling Virgil with them. His breathing coming fast and shallow, Jeff waited until they had reached the hallway before he sprinted after them, colliding headlong with the one holding the gun, who had been foolish enough to turn his back on the kitchen door. Wrestling furiously with the man, Jeff had just managed to wrench the gun away from him when he heard Virgil cry out.

His head shooting up, Jeff just about caught sight of his son flying through the air towards him before Virgil crashed into his father, sending them both flying backwards. Using his body to protect Virgil from the impact, Jeff quickly rolled them over; making sure his boy was shielded from the men. With one grasp, he pulled the belt away from Virgil's hands before spinning back to face the men, his heart in his mouth when he saw the first had reached his gun again. A deathly silence fell over them as the three men glared at each other. Jeff could feel Virgil trembling behind him and wanted nothing more than to pound into the men who had this effect on his child, but he knew that by moving he was leaving Virgil open to them, something he refused to do. Nothing was said until a small voice broke through…

"Daddy?" Jeff had never whipped his head around as quickly as he did now, fear pumping through him. Unfortunately for him, the men had also caught sight of a figure at the end of the stairs.

"GORDON, RUN!" But in typical seven year old style, the child simply froze, looking with wide eyes at the gun now pointing at him. Then, simultaneously, two things happened at once.

The gun went off.

John threw himself out of the kitchen door, flying across the stairs and so sheltering his little brother.

"JOHN!"

"NO!"

**Erm...ops? Let me know what you thought? And don't kill me! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow, thank you so so so much for all of those incredible reviews, it means the world! A special thank you to those of you I can't respond directly too as well!**

**Oooh, I'm saying now, I know absolutely nothing about medical stuff, so this is probably all wrong, but it made it more interesting to write. So I'll apologise in advance for the numerous mistakes regarding medical progress now!**

**Hope you like it!**

The screams went flying around the house as the blond collapsed with a groan at Gordon's feet, the terrified boy gazing at his big brother in horror. Scooping Virgil up, Jeff sprinted towards the stairs, all but ignoring the men, his only thought to get to his son.

"Virgil, take Gordon and get upstairs, NOW! Do NOT come back down until I tell you."

As Virgil squeaked his agreement and bundled his brother up the stairs, Jeff dropped to his knees beside John, just about hearing the door slam open as the two men went flying out. What he didn't hear, however, was the skid of tyres as the car was forced to swerve to avoid another. Jeff only had eyes for his son though, trying to blink away the tears which blurred the vision of John's pale face, his eyes shut. Pressing his hand against the wound in his son's shoulder, Jeff pulled away shakily as he immediately felt the blood seep through his hands.

"No," he begged, his voice catching. Tearing his shirt over his head, Jeff scrunched up the material and quickly pressed it against the wound, trying to maintain the pressure as the shirt quickly changed colour. Hearing a voice swear violently behind him, Jeff turned, only to catch sight of an unfamiliar man standing in his doorway, face horrified at the sight in front of him.

"Call an ambulance," he commanded, using his best teacher's voice as he quickly crossed the hallway and dropped to his knees by John. Pushing away Jeff's hands, Brian immediately took over, his training kicking into gear in full mode.

"I'm not leav-," Cutting Jeff off mid sentence, Brian gently but firmly pushed Jeff away.

"I'm a P.E teacher, I'm medically trained. Trust me, call an ambulance." For a long moment, Brian didn't think Jeff would move, but eventually the other man nodded and stood up, albeit rather shakily.

Moving into the kitchen, Jeff narrowly avoided standing on the broken plates before reaching over and grabbing the receiver. Listening to the murmured voice in the kitchen, Brian sighed as he glanced down at the pale face below him. John, although unconscious, seemed to have been rather lucky; it was a clean shot to the shoulder, an easy position to be able to treat in comparison to what could have easily happened.

"Hold on, buddy," Brian whispered, reorganising the material to provide even more effectiveness. "Your Dad needs you, so does Scott. Just hold on, John, hold on."

"What the hell do you mean it will be at least half an hour? My fourteen year old son has just been shot!" Wincing at Jeff's tone, followed by a thud of the phone being flung at the wall, Brian spared his young patient another glance.

"I can see where you and your brother get your tempers from then, Johnny."

"How…how is he?" Almost afraid to ask as he tiptoed out of the kitchen, Jeff once more dropped to his knees besides his son, resting the still head on his lap and combing his fingers through the untidy hair.

"He'll be fine, Tracy. The wound is neat, but…was I right in hearing the ambulance is going to take a while?"

"Thirty flippin' minutes," Jeff muttered, feeling too drained to be able to stay angry.

"Then we need to get the bullet out ourselves." At Jeff's yelp, Brian shot him a sympathetic look. "Don't worry, I'll do it. I need tweezers though, sterilised. I'll need you to hold him down in case he jerks. Think you can manage?"

Jeff paled at the news that he would have to pull a bullet out of his son's shoulder, but Brian had to hand it to the man when he determinedly nodded. He wasn't so sure he would have been able to if their positions had been reversed.

"Mother!" Jeff stood up and started heading towards the kitchen. The second the word left his lips, Ruth Tracy appeared at the top of the stairs, hurtling down them with a cry as she caught sight of her motionless grandson at the bottom.

"I kept the others upstairs, Jeff," the woman practically sobbed, pulling Brian's hands away so she could apply the pressure to the wound herself. Standing up with raised eyebrows, Brian had to admit he admired the courage of the Tracy family. He only hoped Scott was holding up as well.

"I didn't want them to see what had happened, but Virgil is hysterical, I can't calm him down. He keeps thinking John is dead, which is upsetting Gordon."

"Don't worry, Mother, I'll talk to him. We have to get the bullet out of John; the ambulance is going to take a while. Do you think you can sterilise the tweezers?"

"Of course." Handing control back over to Brian, the small woman bustled into the kitchen. Hearing her pull various things down as she searched the kitchen, Brian smiled at Jeff.

"Wonderful woman, your mother, Tracy."

"Tell me about it. I'm sorry, but who are you? You seem to know who I am, who John is, yet I don't know your name."

"Brian Samson. I'm a teacher at the boys' school. Coached Scott in running track last year. He's good, you should be proud of him, Tracy."

"I am. I'm proud of them all. And I never told them."

Brian frowned up at the man he was prepared to hate when he found out how irresponsible he had been, but on seeing how broken the man looked, couldn't find it in his heart to feel anything but sympathy. Before anything more could be said, Ruth came bustling back through, the tweezers held gingerly in her hand.

"Mom, you don't have to see this," Jeff said quietly, noting the slight tremor in her hands.

"He's my grandson, Jefferson, I'm staying here," she snapped in return, making Brian smile. It was quite clear who was really in charge in this family. Taking the tweezers from her with a nod, Brian quickly tore away John's t-shirt, allowing him access to the wound.

"Tracy, I need you to hold his arm down. Don't let him move, it might cause more harm than good. Even if he cries out, _don't _let him move." Nodding his understanding, Jeff took up position as Brian nodded to him, signalling he was going in. Without any further ado, Brian plunged the tweezers in, immediately causing Jeff to have to tighten his grip as John automatically bucked, trying to escape. Holding him still, Jeff blinked away tears as Brian dug around in his boy's arm, before eventually grasping hold of the bullet, and with one sharp tug, pulling it free. Immediately pressing the bloodstained shirt back over the wound, Jeff sighed in relief, thankful it had seemed to go smoothly.

As Brian stood to dispose of the bullet, John's eyes flickered open, albeit rather unfocused.

"Dad?" he croaked, agony shooting through his arm and shoulder. Looking blearily up, he caught sight of his father sitting right next to him, realising his head was cradled in his Dad's lap.

"I'm here, baby," Jeff whispered, using one hand to hold the material over the wound, the other to tenderly to stroke John's hair back from his forehead. "I'm here. Everything is going to be alright, it will be okay. Daddy's here, baby, Daddy's here."

Smiling weakly, John caught Jeff's eye.

"You're not going anywhere?" he whispered, his voice lined with pain. Blinking furiously to hide his tears, Jeff vehemently shook his head.

"No, Son. I'm staying right here with you and your brothers."

"'Bout time," John muttered, closing his eyes again against the onslaught of pain. Swallowing hard, Jeff glanced up, tears swimming in his own eyes as he caught his mother's. She smiled gently at him, a smile full of reassurance and love, causing Jeff to nod. Taking a deep breath, he looked back down towards his son, frowning when he saw the blond still had his eyes shut.

"Johnny, open your eyes for me. Come on, John, look at me."

"Wanna sleep," John murmured, his voice barely audible.

"It's not time for sleeping, sweetheart," Ruth cut in, stroking John's hand with her own, although who she was trying to reassure more, Jeff wasn't certain. Their calming, soothing voices, however, were doing nothing to keep the drained boy awake. Surveying the scene from the kitchen doorway, Brian frowned at the failed attempts to awaken the boy again. He couldn't sleep, not until the ambulance arrived.

"Tracy, no time for sleeping, boy! I need you alert and active, _now._ Snap to, kid!" Both Jeff and Ruth jumped in surprise at the aggressive tone in Brian's voice – it was not a side they had yet seen of the man – but it had the desired effect as John immediately cracked his eyes open again.

"Sir?"

"That's more like it, son. Keep those eyes open for me."

About to make a comment about the tone of voice Brian was using on his injured son, Jeff paused as he looked at John. The boy's eyes were indeed open, slightly more focused than last time. It seemed he responded more to a teacher-like attitude, making Jeff inwardly sigh. It just showed how much he'd missed if he didn't even know what it took to get through to his own son.

For a moment, the four of them stayed silent, Ruth's thumb continuously working its way over the back of John's hand, working perfectly in rhythm to the hand combing itself through his hair, sending John into a comfortable stupor. Suddenly, a heart-wrenching cry could be heard echoing down the stairs, followed by a higher pitched scream sounding like Gordon. Sighing, Jeff caught his mother's eye.

"You're the only one who can calm him down, Jeff."

"I'm not leav-," For the second time in about ten minutes, Jeff was cut off at the same point in the sentence.

"Go, Dad," John whispered, his eyes pleading with his father to listen to him. "Virgil needs you. You've made him wait long enough, don't make him wait any longer."

His heart almost breaking at the underlying message in John's quiet tone, Jeff mutely nodded. Dropping a kiss onto John's head, he gently stood up, resting the blond mop on the floor, locking eyes with his mother, who gave him a reassuring nod. It was time to face up to his middle child, possibly the most stubborn of them all.

Climbing the stairs, Jeff paused outside Virgil's door, the noise coming from within a clear indication that at least two of the boys were in there. Raising his fist to knock on the door, giving them some sense of security, Jeff glanced down at himself and grimaced. His shirt was still being used as a way of stemming the blood coming from John, leaving his father's body covered in his son's blood. Somehow, he didn't think that would work as a good way of calming Virgil down.

Crossing the hall softly so they didn't know he was upstairs, Jeff let himself into his bathroom and hastily began cleaning himself up. It didn't take long for the sink to be stained red, but at least the father was looking more normal again. Throwing on a clean top, Jeff paused on his way out, catching sight of himself in the mirror. He still looked a mess, even if he was now clean. It was the look in his eyes that haunted him the most; it was one of a practically broken man.

"Pull yourself together, Jeff. Your boys need you." Breathing in deeply and squaring his shoulders, Jeff left his room, crossed the hallway and knocked on Virgil's door.

Silence instantly fell within the room, before muffled footsteps could be heard making their way towards the door. Composing himself as the door slowly creaked open, Jeff softly smiled when he caught sight of Virgil's head, anxiously trying to reassure his son.

"Hey, Virg, can I come in?" Slowly nodding, Virgil opened the door further, his bottom lip trembling as he did so. Jeff had taken no more than a single step into the room when Virgil burst into tears.

"S'my fault. S'all my fault!" Dropping to his knees, Jeff said not a word, but pulled Virgil into a fierce embrace. Holding tightly onto his son, he glanced up to see Gordon sitting on the floor next to the bed, the tears still trickling down his face, although the screaming Jeff had heard earlier appeared to have stopped. Taking one look at the child, Jeff knew why. Gordon was simply too exhausted to be able to keep up that level of intense emotion any longer. Unhooking one arm from Virgil, Jeff held it open, a clear invitation for the youngster to join in the hug. Gordon didn't need telling twice and quickly scurried across the room, throwing himself at his father.

"Is Johnny gonna die, Daddy?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. Drawing away, Jeff pulled Gordon onto his lap, keeping one arm hooked around Virgil.

"I want you both to listen to me, boys. Your brother is going to be absolutely fine."

"But Virg said when people get shot, they die. Johnny's gonna die!" As Gordon burst into a fresh wave of tears, Jeff sighed. He had forgotten just how hard it could be to explain something to someone of Gordon's age. At least his words did seem to have some effect on Virgil though, although the boy was far from being calm.

"Gordon. Listen to me, son. John is going to be fine; no one is going to die. Do you understand? Everyone is going to be fine."

"Pwomise, Daddy?" Gordon whispered, his voice slipping as he struggled to stop himself from crying. Giving him a cuddle, Jeff voiced his reassurances, smiling sadly at Gordon's choice of words. It was times like this that made him realise just how young his son still was, slipping easily back into the "baby" words he had been so desperately trying to outgrow.

"Where's Alan, Virgil?"

"Grandma put him in his bed," Virgil whispered, obviously feeling a little guilty about forgetting his littlest brother. "He fell asleep when you were…when…John…"

"Alright, Virgil, it's alright. I need you to tell me why on earth you think that any of this is your fault?"

"I made Scott go back for the canvas. I let them get me."

"Virgil, don't you dare think like that. This was not your fault at all. You have been very brave, son, and I'm very proud of you. You were lucky you got away, it meant that we knew what had happened to Scott. Promise me, Virgil, you won't think like that."

"Ok, Dad," Virgil whispered, drawing his hand across his eyes in an attempt to wipe away the remaining tears. Smiling encouragingly at his son, Jeff nodded his approval. Before anything else could be said or done, however, a call up the stairs drew his attention away.

"Jeff! Jeff, the ambulance has arrived!" Glancing at his sons, Jeff sighed when he saw Gordon's lip trembling again, the redheaded child fixing his father with a slightly accusatory stare.

"You said he'd be fine."

"He will, Gordon, but the doctor has to have a look at him. You know when you hurt your knee and one of us has to look at it before it's all better? The doctor has to have a look at Johnny and make him all better."

"Oh." Gordon frowned as he contemplated his father's words, but was obviously satisfied enough, for he didn't question it any further. Standing up, Jeff offered his sons his hands, leading them from the room. Leaving them at the top of the stairs, he quietly crossed into Gordon and Alan's joint room, smiling down at the sight of the toddler fast asleep, although the misery was still clear on his face even then. Distractedly running a hand through his hair, Jeff bent over the bed and carefully lifted his baby into his arms, relieved when Alan did nothing more than stir slightly.

Leading the boys down the stairs, Jeff could sense Virgil's hesitation at seeing John, but Gordon had no such concerns. Racing past his father, he immediately dropped to his knees by John.

"S'gonna be 'kay, Johnny. Daddy says the doctor will make it all 'kay, just like you did when I hurted my knee." John gazed blearily at his brother, his eyes out of focus, but everyone present could see the love spiralling out of them.

"Thanks, Gordy."

Beaming in a satisfied manner when he thought he had made everything better, Gordon missed the concerned looks on the adults' faces, although Samson couldn't help but chuckle slightly at his determination to put everything right in the way only an innocent child could manage.

"Where's the ambulance, Mom?"

"It was just pulling into the street; we saw it from the window."

"Does it hurt, John?" Carefully peering around his father, Virgil turned visibly pale when he saw the bloodstained shirt in his teacher's hand, but when John offered him a smile and beckoned him closer, he ventured forward.

"S'not too bad, Virg. You holding up, bud?" Glancing quickly at his father, Virgil set his face and nodded bravely, causing John to smile with pride as his eyes closed again.

"Johnny?" Virgil's fearful voice made Jeff immediately break off his conversation with his mother about who was going and staying and glance quickly over at his son. Seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye, Samson shifted his gaze from Gordon, back to John.

"Open your eyes, John!" Frowning when the commanding tone did nothing, Jeff swiftly handed Alan to his mother and dropped to his knees beside John, being mindful to gently move Virgil out of the way. Tapping John on the cheeks, Jeff frantically tried to rouse his son again, but it appeared unconsciousness had once more claimed the boy. Hearing Gordon's small sniffle, Jeff sighed deeply. Something needed to be done to distract the boys. Shuffling up closer to Virgil, Jeff draped his arm around his son, keeping his voice low.

"Virgil, I've got a really important job for you to do, do you think you can manage that for me?" At Virgil's slightly hesitant, but firm nod, Jeff smiled encouragingly at him. "I need you to look after Gordon for me. He's really upset, but I have to help take care of John. Do you think you can do that for me, son, can you look after your brother?"

"Like Scott did?" Virgil asked. His question, albeit meant in innocence, caused a stabbing pain to shoot straight through Jeff's chest.

"Yes, Virgil, just like Scott did. Will you do that for me?"

"I can try, Dad."

"Good boy." Turning his attention back to John, Jeff didn't have long to work out the best way of stopping himself from panicking when the doorbell rang. Nodding to Samson, Jeff smiled tightly in appreciation as he immediately got up to let the medics in. As the green-uniformed men stepped through the door, Jeff could sense more than see Virgil drawing Gordon back even further, the uncertainty radiating out from him. If he was honest, Jeff couldn't blame him, they had always been taught they could trust people in uniform to help them, yet with the fake officers and everything that had happened, that trust had been severely fragmented. He only hoped it was a temporary thing.

Finding himself moved out of the way as the paramedics took over, Jeff turned towards his mother, concern radiating out of his eyes.

"Are you going to be alright staying here with those three?"

"I can handle a few tantrums, Jefferson. You just go with your boy and get him back on his feet." Smiling in appreciation at how strong his mother was sounding, Jeff turned his attention back to John just in time to see him being lifted onto the stretcher, an IV line already in place along with a blood transfusion bag, making Jeff's heart turn cold. It looked far more serious when John was wired up like that. It made him look even younger.

"Mr Tracy? I'm assuming that you are riding with him?"

"Er…" About to agree, Jeff had a sudden thought that made his heart sink through his feet. What if the men hadn't gone and were just waiting for him to leave? He couldn't leave his mother here on her own with three young children, just waiting for them to come back. The fact that John was now being rushed to hospital because of them showed they were serious, and Jeff didn't even want to consider what could happen if he wasn't here.

"It's alright, Tracy, I'll stay if you want." As if reading the man's thoughts, Brian's voice had never been so welcome than at that moment in time.

"Are you sure?"

"Go."

Smiling in appreciation, Jeff followed the men out of the door and into the back of the ambulance, turning to smile reassuringly at his boys one last time before the doors shut. Virgil's responding smile was a little watery, but at least it was there. Thankfully, Jeff's middle son seemed to have finally realised that John was indeed going to be alright. He was the most stubborn out of the lot of them, and if he hadn't calmed down then there would have been no chance of calming the younger two. As the sirens wailed into life and the ambulance was sent shooting forward, Jeff sighed deeply, holding John's hand as he watched the medic work on his son. How much worse could this day get?


	11. Chapter 11

**What the hell is it with update day and my computer refusing to turn on? It's doing it again! But aha, I have a trick up my sleeve - the library! :) See, I can beat stupid computers! Maybe it's the Tracys... John is sitting there breaking my computer everytime I need to update because they don't want to go through anything else.. That could explain it! Either way, at least I'm managing to get this out one way or another!**

Scott's return to consciousness was far more abrupt than he would have liked, a sharp scratching sensation in his arm pulling him from the darkness. Blearily cracking his eyes open he winced at the bright light just above him, bringing his sight back into focus enough to see a man he had not yet encountered stepping back from him, empty syringe in hand. Making to jerk away, Scott became aware of his surroundings properly. He wasn't in the same room as before, but the layout made him more than aware that it was the same building. A bright bulb hung from the ceiling directly above him, but apart from that the room was empty. Scrambling backwards far quicker than his dizzy head would have liked him to, Scott felt something catch around his wrist, stopping him from going more than a few paces in distance. Following it with his eyes, the teenager felt his heart sink when he caught sight of the manacle around his left wrist, securely fastened to the wall. They weren't going to let him escape again.

"He's awake." The voice from the man who had obviously brought him back from the darkness caught Scott by surprise. He sounded almost remorseful, as if he regretted the position Scott was in.

"Thank you, Doctor."

Snapping his head around, Scott felt the fear build up inside him as Blag entered his vision, leering unpleasantly. Trying to turn his fear into anger, Scott attempted to glare at the man, but was unsure if he was successful.

"So you didn't like the room we kindly provided you with? You know, all you had to do was ask."

"What are you going to do?" Scott whispered, hating how hoarse his voice sounded. A harsh tickle was starting in his throat, causing him to cough in an attempt to alleviate the sensation, bringing tears to his eyes. He hated how weak it was making him look in front of Blag.

"Please…"

"Oh very well, Doctor. If it will stop your whining." The first man quickly hurried forward, a glass of water clutched in his hand, the blue straw poking out of the top. Hearing a strange jangling sound, Scott frowned up at the man, but was too exhausted to think straight.

"Sip it."

Closing his lips around the straw, Scott did so, finding the temptation to gulp almost too much to resist as the water provided a cool blessing to his throat, allowing the thumping in his head to subside somewhat. Regaining some of his strength, Scott allowed the man to help him sit up properly, propping himself against the wall gratefully. Before anything else could be said, the door opened and two men walked through, causing the teenager to shrink back in fear.

"Well?" Blag asked coldly, eyes narrowing at the fact that only two of them walked through the door. "Do you have one?"

"No, Sir," one of the officers responded, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, shooting Scott a glare. "We tried to get a younger one, and the brat screamed the place down and brought blondie running." His heart sinking and his breath catching in his throat, Scott swallowed hard, hoping beyond hope that the fake officers who had caught him weren't talking about what he thought they were talking about.

"So then we tried to go for another, and Tracy arrived home. They escaped."

"I see," Blag stated, his voice like ice. "So you failed me again, Turner?" The man who had delivered the report went pale as Blag pulled out his gun, but the bullet was never aimed at him. The second officer stared in confusion at the red stain spreading out from his chest, almost as if he didn't know how it got there. Confusion and betrayal flickered through his eyes for a brief second before he collapsed to the floor and moved no more. His breathing shallow and fast, Scott stared at the fallen man in shock, his brain unable to form a reaction. A comforting hand laid itself on his shoulder and the Doctor gave it a quick squeeze, his own face reflecting some of the horror the teenager was feeling.

"We did get the message across that we were serious though," the man named Turner continued, appearing unshaken by the cold-blooded murder of his colleague. Turning to Scott, he smirked in satisfaction at the terrified expression on the youth's face. At Blag's soft prompt, his smirk widened.

"Blondie got in the way of a bullet. He was just lying there in his own blood as we left."

Blag flickered his eyes across to Scott as he waited for the reaction. The small amount of colour the boy had managed to regain flooded away, making him look like death itself. He seemed to try and form a few words as he stared at Turner, his eyes reflecting his desperation in a way his words never could. For one long moment he just stared, before passing out, slumping down the wall where he sat.

Watching Scott lose consciousness, Blag sighed. He had been hoping for a little "chat" with his new guest.

"You didn't just make that up, did you, Turner?" he asked, the warning all too clear in his voice.

"No, Sir. It's at least a shoulder wound if not more. The brat jumped in front of his brother."

"Very well. I'll contact Tracy again in the morning. Let's give him time to stew. He must sell now, unless he wants another son shot."

"Yes, Sir."

"Come, Turner, you seem to be getting through partners too quickly, old friend. Let's find you another from our new recruits."

And so saying, the two men walked out of the room, a handful of guards hurrying through and removing the body before the door snapped shut, the bolt being clearly locked. Staring at the unconscious boy in front of him, the Doctor sighed, before carefully navigating the youth into a more comfortable position.

"You're too young to be caught up in this, kiddo," he whispered, using his legs as a cushion for Scott's head. After a few moments, Scott showed signs of coming back round and, encouraging him to open his eyes, the Doctor smiled in relief as he did so.

"Welcome back, kid."

Gazing blearily at the man above him, it almost seemed to take a few moments for Scott's brain to catch up, but when it did so, he violently jerked away, only to have the manacle snap taut and stop him from moving any further. Swallowing hard, Scott tried to hide the tears in his eyes, but the Doctor smiled at him reassuringly.

"You've got nothing to fear from me. See?" Flicking his leg out in front of him, the Doctor motioned to the manacle around his ankle, making Scott realise what the jangling noise had been. This Doctor was obviously as trapped as Scott was. Scott merely nodded, drawing his knees up under his chin, resting his head on top of them, the heaviness in his heart intensifying with each beat. This time, he made no attempt to stop the tears from flooding over, barely noticing as the man moved to sit beside him.

"Shh, kid. It's going to be alright. You don't want to draw their attention, trust me."

"John," Scott whispered, his heart clenching in anguish as Turner's words turned over in his head.

"That your brother?" As Scott nodded, causing a fresh set of tears to spill over, the Doctor squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, feeling Scott tremble beneath his touch.

"He's alright, buddy. They were talking after you passed out; it's just a shoulder wound. He'll be back up in no time at all."

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Scott turned his tear-filled eyes on the man sitting next to him.

"What?"

"Your brother is going to be fine, kid. Turner always was a rubbish shot, I should know. Might have clipped his shoulder, but he is going to be just fine."

Feeling a torrent of emotions so strong Scott didn't know he was capable of possessing them, he leant his head against the wall, feeling utterly spent.

"Hold on, Johnny. The guys need you to be strong until I can come and help."

Hearing Scott's pleading whisper, the Doctor smiled sadly down at the boy. He was so young, and yet determined to be so strong, despite what he was going through. The man only hoped that someone hurried up and managed to bring Blag down, the kid needed to be with his family.

"What's your name?"

"Scott. What's yours?"

"I…I'm not sure. I've been the Doctor for so long, I can no longer remember life outside of this room. I can't remember my own name!"

Glancing at the man in a mixture of astonishment and fear, Scott swallowed hard. Blag wasn't going to keep him here for so long he forgot his own name, was he?

"But you'll be alright, Scott. You've got me. You've got a family out there who love you, and will do anything to get you back. And from what Turner reported, they are giving Blag a run for his money. No one has ever managed to resist him this much, you must have a great set of parents."

"Parent," Scott whispered, closing his eyes so the Doctor didn't see them fill once more. How he wished his mother was here right now, he needed her. "Mom died last year. Just been Dad since then, when he's around."

"Oh, son, I'm so sorry." Not knowing what else to say, the two prisoners sat side by side, the Doctor stealing worried glances at the youth from time to time. It had taken him hours to persuade Blag to let the teenager have a drink, but the man knew full well that it was not going to be enough. He needed a lot more fluid than that, not to mention food. It wasn't only his physical health that the man was worried about, not every teenager was kidnapped, held at gun point, drugged and watched a man be murdered in front of their eyes. It was going to take a lot more than a night's sleep before Scott was alright again. Desperately hoping that the kid's father was indeed on his way to finding them, the Doctor smiled sadly down at the sleeping boy, hoping the rest would at least provide him with some respite.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry about the shortness of this chapter! Had it all divided up, and then the hard drive on my computer decided to die! Luckily the story was saved on my memory stick, but i haven't got around to resorting out chapters yet!**

**Oh, in case anyone was wondering, i haven't gained ownership since chapter 1 either, they still don't belong to me!**

Jeff felt the coffee cup begin to slide from his slackening grasp and jerked himself back into reality. Blinking rapidly to try and wake himself up, he instead turned his gaze onto his sleeping son and felt the love blossoming out of him. Samson had been right, John had been lucky. Within a couple of hours of arriving at the hospital he was awake, sitting up in bed and demanding to go home, his arm secured in a sling across his chest. Unfortunately for him, he had been told that he couldn't go home until at least the next afternoon. John thought it was because they wanted to keep an eye on him, but Jeff had been informed otherwise. Despite his strong protests, the hospital staff had phoned the police, declaring that they had to be involved in every case that involved a gunshot wound, especially on a minor such as John. Jeff couldn't help feeling a tendril of fear eat away at him on discovering this news. He had gotten the police involved once already and this was the result, sitting in a hospital with an injured son, something that could have easily been life-threatening.

Tenderly brushing back John's hair, Jeff planted a light kiss on his forehead, unsure of how to react as John's frown immediately disappeared at his touch and he sank into a deeper sleep. It hadn't been all that long ago that his son had held him responsible for his missing brother. Swallowing hard as thoughts of Scott filled his mind, Jeff prayed to anything and everything that might possibly be out there to look after his son. Losing Lucille had nearly killed him, hearing the gun go off had almost shattered his heart. If he were to lose Scott, Jeff didn't think he would ever be able to come back from that one.

"Mr Tracy?" Startled, Jeff glanced up to see the middle-aged nurse who had been making frequent checks on John's progress standing in front of him, a fresh coffee in one hand and a small smile on her face.

"You began that one nearly three hours ago. I think it may be cold. Here."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"It's Rachel, sir. And you're welcome." Taking the old cup from Jeff, she quickly disposed of it before checking the readings coming from John, nodding her approval and jotting down a few things on her clipboard before placing it on the end of the bed in satisfaction.

"He'll be as right as rain in a couple of days. You may find it a bigger challenge getting him to rest it. He will need rest, and peace and quiet."

"Thank you," Jeff repeated, not having the heart to tell the kind woman that peace was the last thing John was going to be able to get, no matter where he was. Until Scott was safely back at home there would be no peace for the family. Not even Alan was managing to escape from the mood that had infiltrated the household. When Jeff had spoken to his mother just before John regained consciousness she had sounded more worn than she had for a while. Alan had woken up from his nap and was refusing to go back to sleep, demanding Scott. That alone was practically breaking Jeff's heart, the fact that his youngest son was calling for his brother, not his father, in times of stress. It made Jeff realise just how much he had lost over the last year.

"Dad?" Pulled out of his musings, Jeff looked up to see John peering back at him, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Hey, baby. How's the shoulder? Do you want the nurse to give you some more painkillers?"

John frowned for a moment as he contemplated his father's question, before obstinately shaking his head. Jeff regarded him for a moment before smiling fondly, pressing the button and summoning Rachel back to the room. In just a few seconds the kind woman bustled back in, smiling widely when she saw that John was awake.

"Good morning, sweetie. And how is the arm this morning? If I can just move your father out of the way... There we go, Mr Tracy." Gently, but firmly pushing Jeff to the side and taking his place by John's head, Rachel smiled down at her young patient, eyes twinkling.

"Now, John, on the scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

"Four." John declared firmly, before giving himself away and glancing guiltily towards his father, his fingers on his good hand twitching slightly, a sign Jeff knew to mean he was lying. Before he could say anything to Rachel, however, the nurse seemed to have realised herself that John wasn't being entirely truthful about his condition.

"I'll take that as an eight then," she muttered more to herself, busying herself with the IV line by John's bedside, pushing a fresh wave of drugs into the line. Within just a few moments, John's eyes cleared, an obvious sign he had been in more pain than he was admitting.

"Sorry, Rachel," Jeff suddenly butted in, wanting to check the time but realising he didn't have his watch on. "What's the time?"

Glancing down, Rachel quickly checked. "Eight am, exactly, Mr Tracy."

"Eight!" Jeff exclaimed, unable to believe it was further into the morning than he had thought. He had clearly slept longer than he had realised, the worried father only thought he had dozed for a few moments at the most. "But that means… John, Grandma is bringing the boys in any moment…"

Before he could finish his sentence, however, the door burst open and chaos broke loose in the small hospital room. A small copper-headed figure came hurtling in, somehow automatically skirting himself around the adults in the room and throwing himself onto the bed, almost slipping off in the process. He would have done so if it wasn't for John instinctively reaching out and hauling him on. Virgil hesitated for a split second at the door, but when John smiled and beckoned him over, the speed at which the younger boy shot across the room and sat on the end of the bed, his gaze lingering for a long moment over the sling bound across his brother's chest, almost matched Gordon's. Smiling for a moment at the interaction that came so naturally to his sons, Jeff turned his attention back to the door to see his mother leaning against the doorframe, Alan in her arms. Immediately plucking his youngest son from her and holding him close, Jeff frowned at the exhausted appearance of his mother. Before he could voice his concerns, however, she had crossed the room and was soon fussing over her second oldest grandson. Switching his attention back to his youngest son, Jeff felt his frown deepen when he took in the complexion of the toddler. He was pale, and his eyes rimmed red, a clear indication of why his mother had obviously been up for the majority of the night.

"Are you causing your grandmother trouble, Sprout?" Jeff asked softly, crossing the room and perching on the chair, resting Alan on his lap.

"Want Scotty, Daddy. Want Scotty." Lightly resting his chin on Alan's blond head, Jeff sighed.

"I know, baby, so do I. But you just have to be brave. He'll be back soon." Nodding miserably, Jeff knew Alan didn't believe a word, but for now was content enough to sit on his father's lap and play with the buttons on Jeff's shirt glumly. Glancing up, Jeff caught his mother's eye and knew that she had seen the whole interaction. Worry spiralled out of her eyes, but Jeff knew it was not just worry about both her missing grandson and her injured one, but all of her boys, Jeff included.

"Mr Tracy?" Hearing Rachel's soft voice, Jeff looked up from where he had been running his hand through Alan's hair to meet her apologetic smile.

"There is a call for you down in reception. Do you want to take it?"

"Who knows where I am?" Jeff mused, standing up anyway. Gently resting Alan on the edge of the bed next to John, Jeff paused for a moment, drinking in the sight in front of him with loving eyes. But there was a big part of the picture missing. Sighing deeply, he turned towards the nurse.

"I'll take it, Rachel. Thank you." Following her out of the room, Jeff soon lost his way in the endless white corridors, his mind racing. It was troubling him who would phone him at the hospital, for the majority of people who knew where he was were sitting in the room upstairs. Wondering if it was possibly Samson checking on John, Jeff couldn't help the growing feeling of unease. If Samson wanted to check, why hadn't he just phoned Jeff on his mobile?

Nodding his thanks to Rachel as she left him in reception, Jeff crossed the room, the receptionist handing him the receiver with a small smile before he had so much as opened his mouth.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly, his heart beginning to beat uncomfortably fast.

"I thought I told you not to go to the police."


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you so much for all of those wonderful reviews, it touches me more than I can say. And a special thank you to all of you to whom I can't respond directly too, thank you, I really appreciate it!**

**Also wanted to say a special thanks to Silver Bee for cheering me up the last couple of days - you've been a star!**

Gasping, Jeff vaguely registered the receptionist looking at him in concern as all the colour drained from his face.

"Where is he? Where's Scott?"

"Go to the outside of the hospital, Jeff. Third bin on the left, next to the doors, there is a laptop. Fetch it."

And with that, the phone went dead, leaving an absolutely terrified Jeff in the lurch.

"Sir?"

Mutely handing the girl the phone, Jeff moved towards the doors as if he was sleepwalking. How did Blag know where they were? Were his boys safe? Suddenly thinking, Jeff turned and jogged back to reception.

"Excuse me. If it is not too much trouble, can you send Security up to room 392? I can't explain now, but please, it's urgent."

"Of course, Sir. I believe the police have just arrived to talk to your son, they should be heading up there now."

"Thank you." Heading out of the hospital at top speed, Jeff scrambled up to the bins. Pulling a face as he opened the third bin, Jeff immediately caught sight of the laptop waiting for him. Snatching it up, Jeff glanced furtively around, wondering if whoever had dropped it off was still around. Swallowing nervously, Jeff wandered back towards the hospital, his mind racing over what on earth he was going to find. He had only made it halfway back when the machine tucked under his arm let out shrill beep, almost making Jeff drop it in surprise. Flicking it open, Jeff felt his heart jump through his mouth when he found himself face to face with Blag.

"Jeff, old friend. How's your son? I hear my officers caused chaos?"

"That's nothing to what I am going to do when I catch up with you. Where is my son?"

"Around," Blag responded dismissively, his eyes momentarily flicking to something off the screen and causing a frown to momentarily flicker onto his face. When he glanced back at the screen, however, the neutral expression was firmly back in place.

"He didn't like my hospitality, though. Tried to go for a walk, apparently. I'm looking after him, though, Jeff, he isn't going to go anywhere."

"Let me see him?" Jeff begged, feeling his knees give way. Finding himself sitting rather suddenly on the edge of the pavement, Jeff blinked furiously to try to clear his eyes of tears as Blag smirked, leaning into the camera to turn it. Trying to maintain at least some composure, Jeff watched with baited breath as the camera spun around the room before coming to a standstill once again and causing Jeff's breath to catch in his throat.

He was once again face to face with his son, only this time, any defiance Scott had shown previously had vanished. He was standing, but it was clear the two men gripping him were holding him up rather than the teenager supporting his own weight. He was extremely pale and looked more exhausted than Jeff had ever seen him. But what made Jeff's blood boil more than anything was the manacle around his son's wrist, keeping him attached to the wall.

"Scotty?"

"John?" Scott's voice came out as no more than a whisper, but Jeff could hear the worry in it. Frowning momentarily, Jeff's gaze fell on one of the men holding his son and his eyes narrowed in anger. It was the same man who had shot John, one of the fake officers who had tried to kidnap Virgil. And by the look of things, he was more than involved with Scott's disappearance. Wondering what on earth he could have told Scott, Jeff smiled reassuringly.

"He's fine, son, he's just fine."

At Jeff's words Scott seemed to sag in relief, causing the men holding him to have to tighten their grip to prevent the youth's knees from giving way.

"Isn't that nice?" Blag's voice sounded from behind the camera, but to Jeff's relief, he made no attempt to turn it back around again, meaning that father and son could still see each other. "If you want him to stay that way, you better listen to me, Jeff Tracy. You know what I want; you know what the price I'm prepared to pay for it is. Unless you want Scott here to know that you failed him and left him to my mercy, I suggest you hand it all over."

"Don't, Dad!" Scott suddenly yelled, trying desperately to shake off the men holding him. "He won't let me go! Don't do it, Dad, don't- oomph!" All the breath was suddenly driven out of Scott as the man Jeff recognised sank his knee into the teenager's stomach and the two of them let go, letting Scott sink to his knees, eyes watering.

"Scott, Scott, Scott, haven't you learnt by now that you shouldn't try to resist me?" Jeff couldn't see what Blag was doing, but all of the colour suddenly drained from Scott's face and he tried to scramble backwards, the terror obvious. Just at the edge of the camera, a man came into view. Although Jeff couldn't see a lot of him, he could make out the syringe in his hand and knew instantly this was the reason for Scott's terror. But what made him clench his fists in anger was that he knew that for Scott to be so afraid of something, he must have already experienced it.

"Don't!" Jeff yelled, watching in fear as the manacle stopped Scott from going any further, the terror growing in his eyes.

"Like father, like son," Blag commented, but before Jeff could say anything else, a voice from beyond his limited vision cut in.

"Leave him alone, Blag."

Desperately wishing he could see what was going on, Jeff's eyes never left his son as Scott obviously sought out the source of the voice. It was clear someone was there who was helping his son, but Jeff couldn't help but feel the fear building as Scott's eyes widened in horror.

Suddenly, a single gunshot rang out through the room, causing Jeff to jump violently.

"NO!" Hearing Scott's scream, the father's eyes immediately refocused on his son, feeling his heart sink even further. Scott was staring at something just out of the camera's view, tears spilling from his eyes. Even relying on the camera, Jeff knew that his son was shaking, his mouth open in shock.

"You have three hours, Jeff." And before the Tracy father could say anything, the laptop went dead. How long Jeff sat on the pavement, too shocked and numb to be able to move, he didn't know. It was only when a voice broke him from his thoughts that Jeff even looked up, only to see Rachel standing over him, her face radiating concern.

"Mr Tracy? We need you upstairs immediately; there has been a slight situation with your boys. Are you alright, Mr Tracy?"

Only hearing half of what the kind-hearted nurse had said, Jeff registered enough to establish the fact that there was trouble with his sons before springing to his feet and sprinting back into the hospital, leaving a flabbergasted Rachel in his wake. Blag wasn't here already, surely?

Skidding through the hospital, Jeff was up the three flights of stairs in a matter of seconds, pausing at the top when he heard the raised voices.

"Leave us the hell alone!"

"John, please."

"Easy, son, we're here to help."

Just as Jeff reached the door, a high-pitched scream sounded, making the frantic father throw himself through the door in a way that resembled a hurricane. The sight in front of him made him freeze, eyes darting frantically around the room in concern. John was up and out of bed, the small trickle of blood running down his arm a clear sign that he had leapt up and pulled the IV line out. Gordon was cowering behind him, arms clutched tightly around his big brother's legs. Virgil was standing slightly behind John, pressing his shaking form against his brother. Sweeping his eyes around, Jeff caught sight of his mother with Alan in her arms, trying desperately to calm John down. Turning his head to face the other side of the room, Jeff caught sight of the two police officers standing there, trying to calm the frantic youths with no idea what they had done wrong. Sighing deeply, Jeff ran the hand that wasn't holding the laptop over his eyes wearily. He should have seen this coming.

"Boys? Boys, it's ok. Look, I'm here now. Come on, John, back into bed with you. Nothing is going to happen, everything is alright." Keeping up a soothing stream of calming words, Jeff crossed the room, only momentarily pausing to drop the hated laptop on one of the chairs. Carefully taking John by the arm, he gently pushed his son back down onto the bed, sitting down himself and pulling Gordon onto his lap.

"What do they want, Dad?" John whispered, the fear clear in his voice. Sighing in resignation, Jeff should have known that the incident at the house would have meant the boys had not reacted well when two officers turned up, especially with their father out of the room.

"They're here to help you, Johnny. The hospital phoned them when you came in as standard procedure."

"You know what happened last time the police were involved," John said quietly, his eyes warily watching the men on the other side of the room. Virgil, however, had cautiously moved across the room and stood at the end of John's bed, eyeing the officers suspiciously, but to Jeff's amazement, not seeming to show the same fear as his brother.

"Do you have a gun?" he asked them, his voice portraying his underlying concern.

"Of course, son," one of the officers responded, making as if to pull it out, but when Virgil flinched back, he froze, locking eyes with Jeff in concern.

"Then get out!" Virgil continued firmly, sounding as obstinate as an eleven year old could manage.

"Virgil Tracy," Jeff began warningly, frowning at the bluntness of his son. He knew why the boy was concerned, but he would not tolerant rudeness from any of his boys, no matter what the situation.

"No, Dad," Virgil cut in, his voice wavering somewhat as he gave in to his uncertainty. "It was the policeman that shot John and tried…tried…" Any firmness Virgil had managed so far instantly broke as he recalled the attempted kidnap and, locking eyes with his father, he burst into tears.

Placing Gordon on the bed next to John, Jeff barely noticed his older blond immediately loop his arm around his younger brother's shoulders as their father crossed the room, pulling Virgil into a firm embrace, smiling proudly as he felt the shaking slowly subside. Locking eyes with the officers over Virgil's head, the Tracy father looked at them apologetically.

"Do you mind waiting outside for a moment?"

"Certainly, sir." Pulling his colleague from the room, he left. Leading Virgil over to the bed, Jeff looked at all of his sons in turn.

"Boys, I want you to listen to me very carefully. These officers are here to help us, I promise. The ones from…from before, they weren't real. Their outfits, everything, it was a fake."

"Their ID looked real enough," John muttered, leaning back into the pillows, exhausted from his outburst. Frowning in concern at his flushed complexion, Jeff hit the call button, wanting someone to check on his son.

"Well, it wasn't, John. The ones outside are going to look after you, they are going to protect you. Are you going to be alright with that, boys?"

"Yes, sir," Virgil muttered under his breath, clearly not happy, but willing to accept his father's word that everything was going to be alright.

"Thank you, Virgil. That is very brave. John? Gordon?" Gordon, however, simply turned to John, clearly intending to copy whatever his big brother was going to do.

"You'll stay?" John whispered, his voice almost breaking Jeff's heart with the underlying fear.

"If I'm not here, then your grandmother will be. Tell you what, why don't I phone Mr Samson to come as well, that way you definitely won't be left alone with them. What do you say to that, Johnny?"

"Okay." Smiling proudly at him, Jeff then turned his attention to the last son who would be affected by the officers. Thank goodness he didn't have to deal with Alan as well, three were bad enough.

"Gordon?" Gordon looked for one long moment at his father, before echoing Virgil's earlier actions and bursting into tears. Sighing, Jeff reached over and picked the seven year old up from the bed.

"Come with me for a moment, Gordon." Carrying his son out of the room, Jeff felt him involuntarily shrink into his father when he caught sight of the police officers. Placing him down again, Jeff firmly took the redhead by the hand and walked him over to where the officers stood. Sheltering behind Jeff's legs, Gordon peered anxiously at the men in front of him. Before Jeff said anything, one of the officers smiled down at the boy, crouching down so he was eye level with Gordon.

"Hey buddy. You did a great job at looking after your brother in there."

Looking at the man in surprise, Jeff was astonished as Gordon carefully came out from behind his father, although the grip on Jeff's hand didn't lessen in the slightest.

"You were really brave," the officer continued, his voice warm and soothing, obviously knowing what was needed to get the child to trust him. Luckily, being so young, whilst it didn't take a lot to scare Gordon, it also didn't take a lot to regain his trust.

"In fact, you were so brave, I think you ought to be a policeman too. What d'ya reckon, champ? Want to be a policeman for the day?"

Watching Gordon, Jeff visibly relaxed as the child tentatively nodded, moving further away from his father. Beaming at the response, the man reached up and took his helmet off before placing it on the redhead, laughing when it immediately slipped down past his eyes.

"Might have to grow into that one, bud. What do you say we go and show your brothers how brave you've been?" And then, to Jeff's delight, Gordon let go of his father's hand, grabbed hold of the officer's and started pulling him back towards the room.

"Paul always knows how to get through to them," the other man commented, watching his companion disappear with a smile. "He's got three himself, knows how to act around the kids. Now, Mr Tracy, what is this I hear about a policeman shooting your son?"


	14. Chapter 14

**I cannot thank you all enough for the amazing reviews and support, it means so much to me. A special thank you to all of you to whom I can't respond directly, I really appreciate your support!**

"It's a long story. In short, my oldest son has been kidnapped by a man named Blag. I tried phoning the police, but somehow he knew…"His voice breaking with concern, Jeff suddenly darted back into the room, smiling reassuringly at the boys, all of whom were looking a lot calmer as Paul worked some unknown magic, snatching up the laptop and darting back out again. Ignoring the fierce gaze John sent him when he caught sight of the laptop, Jeff closed the door softly behind him. Unable to tell the man any more, for his voice no longer seemed to be able to find the words to describe in a detached manner what the last 36 hours had brought, he flicked open the laptop. Pressing a button, he mutely handed it over to the officer, knowing that the entire interaction from before would still be available.

Unable to face the look of terror of Scott's face for the second time in such a short space of time, Jeff sank down the wall, clutching his head in his hands as the emotions of the day caught up with him. The distraught father closed his eyes, trying to ignore the headache building up. Desperately trying to block out the sound of Scott's scream, Jeff only looked up when silence fell, only to be broken by the officer swearing violently, making him jump.

Striding over to John's room, the man poked his head inside, his voice amazingly neutral.

"Paul? Sorry kids, I need to borrow my buddy for a moment." Tuning out, Jeff didn't hear Paul's response, nor his children's sighs of disappointment.

"Matt?" Hearing Paul's concerned question, Jeff looked up, not noticing the tears trailing down his face. How long of his three hours was up? How long until he potentially lost his son for good?

"Paul, this is much bigger than we thought. We're now dealing with kidnap, attempted kidnap and attempted murder."

"Come again?"

Catching sight of Paul's face, Jeff smirked humourlessly. That was precisely what he was thinking. How on earth could this be happening? Without saying another word, Matt handed the laptop to Paul, watching him closely as his colleague and friend replayed the footage. After a few moments, Paul paused it, having seen enough. He knew full well what they were dealing with.

"Step 1?"

"Talk to the boys. Mr Tracy, I need to know what happened to your other sons. Blag mentioned something about his officers, is that why the rest of your sons were terrified of us?"

"Yeah." Sighing wearily, Jeff leant back against the wall, feeling utterly spent. "Blag somehow knew I phoned the police and he sent his own men over, disguised as officers. They… Virg… they tried to take Virgil with them, no doubt to make me hand over to Blag. Instead, we got him away from them, but Gordon turned up… one of them had a gun… John, he…"

"Easy, sir," Matt interrupted, sensing how distraught Jeff was. If the man cracked now, he didn't feel he would be able to get any more answers out of him. To be honest, the officer was unsure how he had managed to hold it together for so long, not after seeing what his eldest boy was going through.

"Can we talk to your sons?"

"Wait, Matt. Did you recognise the one on the left?" Showing his friend the image he had frozen, Jeff watched as Matt narrowed his eyes, squinting at the screen. For a long moment, he seemed to not be aware of what Paul was talking about, but then his whole demeanour changed.

"Mr Tracy, do you know what names the officers were going under when they went to your house?"

"John might," Jeff muttered, thinking back to John's previous comment about ID. Without another word, all three men made their way into the room. Gordon was sitting on the edge of John's bed, playing contently with a happier looking Alan, but the moment his father walked through the door, the smile slipped from his face when he sensed the mood they were bringing in with them.

"John, you mentioned the ID's. I need you to think for me, son. Do you recall what names were on them?"

Immediately cutting in, Jeff nodded in acknowledgment to Paul's grateful smile.

"Er… I think… perhaps. I think one of them might be going under the name of Britten, but I can't remember the other."

"The bastard!" Matt suddenly whispered. Turning to look at them, Jeff frowned at the looks on the officers' faces.

"Right, this just got personal. Paul, I want a unit on standby. Mr Tracy, I'm seizing the laptop for evidence. Oh, and Paul, get onto the station and pull up everything we know about Turner and his latest whereabouts. I want these bastards dealt with now."

"Officer?" Jeff broke in, wondering what could have brought about this sudden change of behaviour in the police. Whilst he was thankful things seemed to be moving in the right direction for helping him get Scott back, Jeff was slightly concerned about what Matt had meant by it being personal, not to mention wondering who on earth this Turner was.

"Britten was an officer. A fine one at that, until he was murdered about a month ago. We believe that the person who was on the left of your son is a criminal named Turner, one we believe is behind the murder. Paul, I want the area where…where Britten was found searched again, there may be something new."

So saying, Paul strode from the room with a curt nod, not noticing the look on the boys' faces.

"I'm sending up security to keep an eye on you, Tracy. I'm going to find your son if it is the last thing I do." Matt followed Paul out of the room with a nod.

Jeff turned to face the rest of the family, immediately noting the look on John's face. He had picked up enough from the adults to know that Jeff had received another transmission regarding his older brother, but Jeff mutely shook his head, a clear indication that he was not going to tell his second eldest what it had contained.

"Daddy?" Alan asked softly, crawling across the bed and stretching out his arms to his father. Obliging, Jeff quickly picked his baby up, holding him close to his heart in the hope the child could feel the love pouring forth.

"Gordy says the policeman will help. Scotty going to come home soon, Daddy." Leaning back, Alan regarded his father seriously for a moment, before darting forward and planting a kiss on the end of Jeff's nose. "S'gonna be ok, Gordy says it'll be ok."

"Then he is a clever boy, your big brother," Jeff muttered softly, resting his forehead against Alan's and closing his eyes. He had to let the youngest believe that everything was still going to be alright, it had taken this long for Alan to begin to cheer up again. It was better for them all if they could protect the toddler from the truth. Especially as Jeff couldn't help but feel the truth was getting darker and darker with every broadcast. He couldn't get Scott's words about Blag not letting him go out of his head. What if his son was right? Even if they could find where Blag was holding the teenager, would they be able to get Scott out again? Trying to hide his small shudder, Jeff placed Alan back on the bed, gave his hair a quick ruffle and gently pushed him towards Gordon. Trust his little redhead to be the one to cheer up his only younger brother. Despite their age differences, the two of them had always been close, maybe it had been something to do with sharing a room?

Before anything more could be said, raised voices could be heard in the corridor, causing Virgil to immediately look towards his father in concern. Sending him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Jeff glanced at his mother, who nodded her understanding. Discreetly stepping forward, the old lady smoothly moved so she was standing next to the pillow on John's bed, in a capable position to stop both John and Virgil if the case may be. Moving quietly to the door, Jeff breathed in deeply, readying himself to aid Security to protect his boys if need be.

Opening the door, the Tracy father stuck his head out, only to see Samson being held back by the security guards. Stepping out of the door in relief, Jeff moved forward.

"Gentleman, it's alright, he's a friend. Please, let him through."

"Very good Mr Tracy." So saying, the two burly men stepped to the side, allowing the equally imposing bulk of Mr Samson through the gap. Smiling at the man warmly, Jeff continued to move forward, his hand outstretched in greeting. Grasping it, the two men formally introduced themselves.

"I never got the chance to thank you for what you did for John back at the house. No, not just for John, but for being there when I wasn't when… when…. well, you know. And for staying last night. I can't express how much I appreciate it. If there is anything I can ever do for you..?"

"There is one thing," Samson responded, a strange look coming into his eye. "You can find your son, and then take some time off work. I hate to bring this up now, but Scott has been looking pale for far too long." Not being sure what the reaction was going to be, Samson was not expecting Jeff to simply sigh deeply, running a hand over his eyes.

"I thought I was doing what was best for them," he muttered, more to himself than to the teacher standing beside him. "I thought if I could set the business up, I would be able to make amends for not being there after their mother died. And now look what has happened. At this rate, I'm going to be lucky to even tell Scotty how sorry I am."

Watching the man guardedly, Samson was surprised to see how close to breaking he was. He had somehow seemed to have been able to hold it together for this long, even when they had been plucking the bullet from John's shoulder. It was clear something had happened in the time Samson had returned to his own home and family.

"Tracy? What's happened? And don't say 'nothing'. Scott is the mirror image of you, I have to say. And knowing that kid as well as I do, I know for a fact that something has happened that has not only increased your worry, but made you more fearful."

Blinking in surprise as the man he barely knew delivered such an accurate statement of his feelings, Jeff couldn't help but let a ghost of a smile onto his face. It had been a common thing mentioned between both family and friends how much Scott resembled his father, not just in looks but in characteristics, especially when it came to looking out for his younger brothers.

"I received another transmission. Did you know I had received the first?" At Samson's small nod, although Jeff had no idea where he could have found out - his mother probably - he continued, trying to ignore the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He had to be strong, at least for the sake of his older boys. John and Virgil were both worked up too much at the moment, any sign of weakness from their father and both boys would crack; they had taken too much already.

"Scott looks awful, and he is terrified. I've never seen my baby so scared, he has been through too much to be able to take much more. I have to find him, I simply have to. Right… right at the end of the transmission, I think… I think someone was shot. And Scott saw the whole thing. My baby saw someone get shot, and I'm not there to help him."

"Easy, Tracy, take it easy. Judging from what I overheard from the policemen downstairs, they will find him, and then you'll be able to give him all the help he needs. He's strong, Tracy, he'll be okay. Just look at John, he was shot, and look at him now."

"I was there for John. I haven't been there for Scott for over a year. I dumped his younger brothers on him, and now I'm not there for him in this."

"Have you spoken to him?" Samson asked, feeling slightly out of his depth as Jeff let the true extent of his emotions show. He had seen more than one kid crack under the pressure of conforming to the standards required for their chosen sport, but to have a father of five whom he had only known for a day crack under some of the worst circumstances possible was not something he had imagined ever happening.

"Twice. Blag has allowed me that much. That's how I know how terrified he is, I can hear it in his voice."

"If you've spoken to him, then you have been there for him. Scott knows that you are looking for him, that you are there, trying your hardest to help him. And that will keep the kid going. If there is one thing I have learnt about Scott Tracy, about any of your boys in fact, is their faith in their family."

"I just hope it is enough," Jeff muttered, mentally giving himself a shake and pulling himself together. Holding the door open for Samson, Jeff breathed in deeply through his nose, gaining control of his emotion just in time to face his boys. Or more importantly, to face John and Virgil.


	15. Chapter 15

**Again, thank you so much to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback on this! A special thanks to Whirlgirl, who I have to say, you completely made my day by calling Blag a pompous arse, really made me smile!**

**Special dedication to Silver Bee for this chapter, as I know it contains her favourite bit!**

**Slightly longer one this time, I hope you like!**

"Sir!" A surprised but slightly joyful call came ringing out before Jeff had even stepped through the door, but the father couldn't stop a smile gracing his features, albeit one that did not reach his eyes, as John immediately sat up straighter and Virgil all but jumped to attention. It was clear that his boys had a deep respect for the teacher, even before all of this happened.

"How you doing, John? You're taking care of him then, Virgil?"

"I'm trying to, Sir," Virgil responded, sounding slightly reproachful as he gazed at his brother with big eyes that Jeff knew from experience could melt the most adamant of hearts, especially when it came to getting what he wanted.

"He's pulled his IV line out and he won't let me put it back in."

"And for good reason," John practically yelped, trying to scurry to the other side of the bed, watching his brother in worry and making Jeff smile.

"I told you, Johnny, I've looked it all up…"

"Practise on someone else first, Virg!"

"Ok, boys, that's enough. Don't worry John, Virgil isn't going to be going anywhere near it, are you Virgil?"

"But, Dad-," Virgil protested, clearly at a loss as to why the older members of the family didn't trust him. He had looked it all up in a book in one of the school libraries once. Admittedly, he had never tried to do it, but it couldn't be that hard when he knew it in theory, could it?

"Are you, Virgil?" Jeff repeated, slightly warningly.

"No," Virgil muttered, unable to stop the pout forming on his face and causing his father to cross the room and ruffle his hair fondly. Before Virgil could put up any more of a fight, Rachel re-entered the room, a warm smile back on her face, although her eyes were echoing concern as she glanced around the room. Knowing the situation she had had to leave in order to come and find Jeff, and then the state she had found him in, it was no surprise that she was looking concerned. As soon as her eyes fell on John, who was still anxiously cradling his arm away from Virgil, she tutted disapprovingly.

"This won't help, young man," she lightly scolded, crossing the room and immediately fiddling around with the line. Within a matter of moments, she had him hooked back up and resting lightly on the pillows. Watching him close his eyes in exhaustion, the kind nurse frowned momentarily, pulling a thermometer out of her top pocket.

"John, I'm just going to pop this in your ear, sweetie. It won't take a few seconds." Without giving John a chance to answer, or, as Jeff more likely suspected, protest, Rachel quickly placed the cold tip in his ear, waiting until the shrill beep resounded throughout the room before pulling it out and frowning slightly at the reading. Before she had a chance to comment on anything, a slightly overbalancing figure drew her attention and she saw a shameful Virgil standing on tiptoes next to her, trying to catch sight of the reading for himself. Smiling down at the eleven year old, Rachel lowered the thermometer subtly, allowing Virgil to rebalance himself and look properly.

"It's Virgil, isn't it?" At the boy's nod, Rachel nodded encouragingly. "Well, what do you think to your brother's temperature?" Looking slightly horrified yet excited about having his opinion asked, Virgil puckered up his face in concentration for a moment, before taking a deep breath.

"It isn't too bad, but it is a little high compared to how it should be."

"Well, it doesn't look like I'm needed then," Rachel commented lightly, smiling down at Virgil once more before placing the thermometer back into her pocket. "Too much excitement for one day, I think, John. I'm going to administer a light course of antibiotics, just to prevent any infection. No, there is nothing to worry about, Mr Tracy."

Addressing the last part to a suddenly concerned-looking Jeff, she tipped Virgil a wink, causing the brown-haired artist to smile. Watching her work, Jeff was thankful they had managed to get such a kind and understanding nurse. Past experiences with the boys in hospital had not been good; they were all too easily bored to be good and compliant patients, even at their young age. As Rachel injected the antibiotics into John's drip, Jeff found himself gazing at his son lovingly, grateful John had his eyes shut so that he wouldn't be squirming under the gaze. For a moment, nothing happened, but then as Jeff watched, John visibly relaxed, his breathing evening out as he fell asleep. Eyebrows raised in astonishment, the father glanced across at the nurse, only to see a small, but rather sad smile on her face. Sensing Jeff's gaze, her smile turned apologetic.

"Light sedative mixed in with the antibiotics. John's had too much excitement for one day, he needs to rest if he doesn't want to cause any long-term damage. Judging by the way the police reacted after talking to you and the fact you have security outside the door, am I right in believing what has happened to John is only part of it?" At Jeff's nod, she continued, busying herself with filling in the chart at the end of John's bed so she didn't have to witness the heartbreak in Mr Tracy's eyes.

"I thought as much. He won't get much rest with all of that going on, his BP levels show how much strain he is under. This will keep him under for a couple of hours, give his body some of the respite it needs. Sir, why don't you take the boys and go and get something to eat?"

"I can't leave him," Jeff muttered, his eyes locked on his now sleeping son. He didn't notice Virgil move until the child suddenly wrapped his arms around his father. Smiling, Jeff returned the gesture, enveloping Virgil in a strong embrace, resting his head atop his son's. With a pang of guilt, he couldn't help but notice this was the first time in a very long time Virgil had been the one to start the hug. The first time in a very long time he had chosen to turn to his father to provide the comfort and reassurance that he needed.

"Sir, he is asleep," Rachel protested, frowning at the haunted look of the man in front of her. It was no wonder he was pale, he couldn't have managed to get more than a couple of hours sleep sitting in that chair last night, and if John was only part of what was going on, it was no surprise he was as tense as a rock. If she was honest, Rachel couldn't have said she really expected Jeff to go, but she was concerned about the other boys. There was only so long three young children could be cooped up in a hospital room without going mad. It wasn't going to help whatever situation the Tracy family had managed to land themselves in, that was certain.

"I can't take the others out," Jeff stated obstinately, his tone bordering on rude as he tried to hold back the tears. Both Virgil and Gordon turned to look at him, Alan a second afterwards as he copied Gordon, but Jeff couldn't meet their gaze. He knew if he was to lock eyes with a single one of his sons at this precise moment, he would crack.

"Why don't we take a walk, Jefferson?" his mother suddenly stated more than asked, brushing her hand lightly over Alan's hair as she crossed the room and took hold of her son's arm, gently, but firmly.

"Mr Samson can stay with the boys, they will be quite alright."

"But Mom-,"

"No buts, Jeff." Dropping her voice, the older woman leant forward and spoke very quietly. "This isn't helping the boys, Jeff, they can all sense your mood, you need to give them more credit. They need to see their father pull himself together."

Nodding softly at the meaning in his mother's words, Jeff allowed himself to be steered from the room, Samson giving him a nod on the way out as he perched on the end of John's bed, clearly trying to make himself accessible to the younger two. Glad that it was someone Virgil trusted that he was leaving in charge, Jeff wondered quite how the safety of his boys began to rest on a man he had only met the day before.

Steering her son into the corridor, Ruth let go of his arm, watching him critically. She hadn't seen him properly in a long time. Every time she had come down to see the boys over the last year she had more often than not ended up looking after them for the day whilst Jeff shot off to a meeting. It seemed that it was the guilt of that on top of everything else that was making Jeff so close to completely losing it, something she would not allow to happen. She had promised both her late husband and Lucille that she would watch out for all of their boys, not just the children. And by looking at the broken man in front of her, she had failed. Seeing her son so distraught almost broke the old lady's heart.

"Am I going to lose him, Mom?"

"Don't you dare talk like that, Jefferson Grant Tracy. Scott is going to be just fine, you'll see. He is strong, just like his father." Glancing up at the crack in his mother's voice, Jeff felt his own tears spill over when he caught sight of the ones rolling down her cheeks. He had forgotten he wasn't the only one who had to remain strong for the boys; his mother also hadn't had the chance to let her guard down as she tried to keep the younger ones calm and reasonably happy.

"Oh, Mom." Wrapping his arms around her, Jeff couldn't stop his own emotions as the woman practically broke down on his shoulder. He couldn't blame her though, he had already broken more than once throughout this ordeal, and was closing to going again. It would do her good to let it out. After just a few moments, Ruth drew back, wiping her eyes and fixing her son with a look he knew only too well.

"I'm going to the shop to get the boys some lunch. They all need a good meal, it will help. And you, Jeff, you are going to eat some as well."

"I'm fine, Mom, just get me a cof-,"

"You are not having coffee, Jefferson. Your body needs rest just as much as the next man's, and if you are all dosed up on caffeine, then that is not going to happen. No, you are going to have some sandwiches, not coffee." And so saying, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and bustled off, making Jeff smile despite his breaking heart. Trust his mother to be the one to pull herself together so quickly and make sure the necessities such as food were taken care of. With a complete lack of appetite himself, the thought of making sure his boys had lunch had not even crossed his mind, Jeff was ashamed to admit. Mentally pulling himself together, Jeff gave himself a small shake, trying to ignore the fact that the two security guards were doing their utmost not to look at him, before re-entering the room.

Virgil was sitting on the floor, leaning up against John's bed, Alan in between his legs. The toddler looked utterly exhausted, something Jeff was not surprised about. If he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, the father was quite surprised the youngster was so quiet rather than letting everyone know how tired he was. Crossing the room to get a better look at them, Jeff couldn't help but smile fondly. Virgil was staring at the ceiling, but it was clear his mind was far away as his eyes were completely unfocused. Alan, however, was beginning to give into his exhaustion, head leaning back on his older brother's chest as his eyes kept drifting shut before he stubbornly pulled them open again, clearly determined that he wasn't going to fall asleep, yet unable to stop his body from doing just that. Samson was sitting on the same chair that Jeff had spent the night on, Gordon sitting cross-legged in front of him as the teacher continued the tale he was distracting the redhead with. As Jeff came in he caught his eye, but just nodded, not faltering in his stride as he continued to occupy Gordon.

Grabbing the other chair, Jeff carefully moved it around his family, doing his utmost not to disturb any of the boys now that they had managed to find some sort of peace. Holding John's hand gently, Jeff couldn't help but let his mind wander to his eldest son. He knew the three hours were nearly up, and if Blag sent another transmission, Jeff knew he would hand everything over there and then. He couldn't continue with the feeling he was doing nothing to get Scott back. When he had spoken to the police earlier, they had made him swear not to sign anything until the last possible minute, especially now they had a lead and were busy searching the area where it was possible that Scott was. But this all seemed to be based on a lot of if's. The Tracy father knew that there was a team being sent to his house and they had taken his mobile as evidence, trying to find out how on earth Blag knew he had contacted the police. What worried Jeff more than anything though, was the amount of loose ends Blag had left. The transmissions were more than enough evidence to hold him accountable for his crimes, and the fact that he must have known Turner was known to the police yet had let him be seen as well, unnerved Jeff. It was almost as if he was daring Jeff to come and find him, giving him enough clues that he would be able to get close enough. He also couldn't get Scott's words about Blag not letting him go out of his head. That, coupled with the carelessness, made Jeff's blood run cold. He had a very strong feeling that it didn't matter what he did, Blag wouldn't let Scott go. Luckily, before Jeff's thoughts could continue on such a dark route, there was a soft knock on the door and Paul poked his head around the door, smiling down at Gordon when the redhead looked up at him, but jerking his head in the direction of the door rather saying anything. Nodding his understanding, Jeff stood up, catching Samson's eye and smiling gratefully when the man also nodded his head in the direction of the door, a clear indication he would continue to watch over the boys.

Practically running across the room and closer to catapulting himself out of the door rather than walking, Jeff felt his eyes search Paul's face anxiously.

"Please… please tell me you've found something, the time is almost up."

"I know. One thing has been cleared up, though, we know how he knew you phoned the police. Both your home phone and mobile had been bugged. I'm assuming that is how he also knew which hospital you were at. I also believe that it clears up another matter."

"It does?" Jeff asked somewhat stupidly, his brain not functioning enough to be able to fit the pieces together himself. At last, he seemed to finally be getting some answers rather than just tearing himself apart in worry.

"Has it not occurred to you how many loose ends of incriminating evidence Blag has left?" Smiling slightly at the officer questioning the exact train of thought Jeff had just been running through, he settled for nodding, not trusting his voice.

"I believe he thinks he is untouchable. He has the police covered – you go for help, he simply sends his own men round. However, what he is either not aware of or has forgotten is hospital protocol. I don't think it has crossed his mind that landing a fourteen year old in hospital with a gunshot wound is an automatic way of getting the police involved, but without you using your phone. His arrogance may just be his downfall, you've basically outwitted him without realising it."

"That's all great," Jeff said somewhat bitterly, unable to stop himself from stealing glances at his watch as the man spoke. He was dramatically running out of time. "But does this help us find Scott? Please, the three hours he gave me are almost up, and we're no closer to finding my son. I can't lose him, I just can't…"

"Don't worry," Paul butted in quickly, anxious to try and stop the man in front of him having another meltdown. That had always been the aspect of his training he hated the most. "He won't get away with this. Britten was Matt's brother-in-law, there is no way he is not going to go all out, possibly disregarding the rule book if it means getting his hands on his murderer. Another mistake of Blag's, he made this personal."

Frowning at the man in front of him, Jeff couldn't help but feel a smug satisfaction at the light gleaming in Paul's eyes. If his reaction was anything to go by, Blag had indeed made a very big mistake. Before he could say anything to the fired up officer, however, a young man in uniform came sprinting into view, skidding to a clumsy halt when he caught sight of Paul.

"Sir, sir..!"

"Easy, deputy, take a deep breath, you're gonna pass out if you don't breathe." Watching the interaction with a guarded expression, Jeff had to admit that Paul was not just good with the kids, but with people in general. He had to be if he had managed to keep the Tracy patriarch calm this long.

"Your colleague said to tell you he has a lead. Another body has been found, on the outskirts of the woods. He is in police uniform, but closer examinations have shown that it is a fake."

"Gotcha, you bastard," Paul suddenly whispered in satisfaction. Giving his senior officer a slightly startled look, the young man continued on his gabbled rush, almost as if he would forget his message if he didn't get it out as fast as possible.

"And the team have been talking to the locals. Apparently one of them saw a police car a few hours ago, arresting a youth. They thought it was strange because the youngster got out of the car and ran but then was caught again, but they just assumed it was one of the teenagers responsible for the recent vandalism and that he had been resisting arrest. Apparently, they are now thinking it is the missing kid."

"Scotty," Jeff whispered, tears springing to his eyes in a mixture of emotions. This was it, they were getting closer and closer to finding his baby.

"Blag mentioned something about your son going walkabouts, didn't he?" Paul mused, clearly thinking back over the recording. Nodding, Jeff let his own mind wander over the events of the previous twenty four hours. Suddenly, one of the things Turner had told him sprang to mind.

"Turner also said something about having to drag Scott back. He must have escaped." His voice echoing the pride he was feeling at his son's bravery, Jeff sighed deeply. He had seen what that escape had cost Scott. Not only was he now obviously more stuck than he had been previously, it had also drained him in more ways than one, and any resilience he had shown in the first broadcast had more than dissipated by the second.

"Officer, I want the hit team assembled now." Watching as the young man sped off, Paul turned to Jeff, any relaxed composure gone, his demeanour strictly professional. Reaching onto his shoulder, he quickly hit the button on his radio.

"All units proceed to the previous location. At least one hostage, so care must be taken, he is a minor. Unknown numbers of hostiles though, caution needed." As the confirmation came back from a number of voices, Paul locked eyes with Jeff.

"You coming to bring your boy home?"

A fierce grin spread over Jeff's face as his eyes gleamed. Not trusting his voice, Jeff nodded, darting quickly back into the room for one last check on his boys before going to save their brother. Catching Samson's eye, Jeff knew by the strange expression that came over the man's face that he had picked up enough to know what Jeff's posture meant.

"I'm coming too," he declared, standing up and causing Virgil to open his eyes to peer over at the adults in confusion. Not wanting to get the boy's hopes up too much just in case, Jeff crossed the room, resting his hand lightly on Virgil's shoulder, being careful not to disturb the now sleeping Alan.

"You know the job I gave you back at the house, Virg?" Jeff asked quietly, giving the artist's shoulder a quick squeeze. "Do you think you can continue it for me? There is somewhere I have to go."

"Sure, Dad," Virgil whispered back, casting a quick glance down at the toddler on his lap. When he caught sight of the P.E teacher also standing up, his expression of fondness quickly morphed into one of concern as he seemed to realise they would be left alone. He cast the sleeping John a startled glance, but before the youth could get too worked up, his grandmother came bustling back into the room, her scarily impeccable timing working to perfection as usual. There was a strange light burning in her eyes as her gaze fell upon her son, and Jeff instantly knew that she had picked up enough from the bustle of activity from downstairs to guess what was going on. Dropping the grocery bags onto the now vacated chair, she pulled him into an embrace far too strong for a woman of her age.

"Bring him home, Jeff," she whispered in his ear, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she drew away, attempting to offer both men a reassuring smile. Trying but failing to respond with the like, Jeff nodded before leading the way out of the room, with any luck going to find his missing son and make up for all the times he had let his boy down over the last year.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you so much once again for all of those amazing reviews, it means so much to me to know that you are still enjoying it!**

**So now for the big question... will they succeed?**

Scott didn't hear a word as Blag continued to threaten both himself and his father, his numb brain only registering horror as he continued to gaze at the Doctor. Blag had not been happy about the man he had held prisoner for a countless length of time suddenly finding a backbone, but amazingly, the man was still alive, although Scott knew enough to know that he needed serious medical attention and fast, if it was to stay that way. The men either side of the teenager had moved away, knowing that their master no longer needed Scott supported now that he had made his point, but the youth barely noticed, shock taking over.

Eventually tearing his eyes away from the Doctor's still form, the horror-struck youth noticed for the first time the silence in the room. Glancing about him, it only took Scott a few seconds to realise that the occupants of the room had gone, leaving only him, Blag and the unconscious Doctor present. Swallowing nervously as Blag just continued to stare at him, his expression neutral, Scott tried his best to glare back, but knew that the effect was lost by the fact he was shaking and his eyes were no longer capable of showing his anger, only his fear and exhaustion. Hating himself for feeling so weak, Scott Tracy wanted nothing more than to go home.

As if suddenly realising that Scott was properly alert again, Blag smirked, levelling his gun at the Doctor once more. This time, Scott knew full well that the man who had tried so hard to help him out didn't stand a chance; the weapon was aimed straight at his head. Feeling the anger he had been so desperately lacking in spark back into life, Scott drew himself to his feet in determination. As Blag glanced at the fallen man, clearly making sure his shot was lined up, he didn't notice Scott quickly calculating the distance between himself and his captor, trying to measure the length of the chain holding him to the wall with his eyes. Whilst he had never been much good at Math - that was John's forte - he knew enough to know that he could reach far enough for what he planned to do.

As Blag steadied himself, his finger ready to begin to pull the trigger, he failed to notice the sudden movement just out of the corner of his eye. He had seen the haunted look in Scott's eyes, thought he knew enough about his young captive to think he wouldn't be receiving any more trouble from the teenager.

"Goodbye, Doc," Blag commented, his voice sickeningly light-hearted as his finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger. Suddenly, a foot came out of nowhere, colliding strongly with Blag's hand and causing the gun to go spinning out of his grip, even as it fired itself. The intended deadly bullet, however, simply clattered harmlessly to the ground on the other side of the room. For a long moment, possibly one of the longest in Scott's life, Blag coolly looked at the gun, now far beyond his reach, something his young "guest" was extremely thankful for. Then he turned his gaze onto Scott, immediately causing the teenager to shrink back in fear.

"That was a mistake, Scotty," Blag said coldly, his voice dangerously soft. Swallowing audibly as Blag menacingly stepped towards him, Scott felt the manacle snap tight around his wrist, not allowing him to go any further.

"Please…" he whispered, his voice barely coming out as anything more than a croak. As Blag took another step forward, Scott felt his knees buckle and before he knew it, he was on the floor, Blag standing mockingly over him.

"You were right about one thing, Scott," Blag continued, almost conversationally, as he grabbed the front of Scott's shirt in one hand, lifting the teenager back onto his feet. "I'm not going to let you go."

And with that, Blag slammed Scott back into the wall, his free hand finding the boy's throat as stars danced in front of his vision. One hand pinned by his side by the chain, Scott's free hand immediately latched onto Blag's, trying to prise the man's fingers from his throat. But his attempts were getting weaker and weaker as he struggled to draw in a breath. Gasping, Scott stared at Blag in absolute terror. There was a strange light burning in his eyes, and in that moment, Scott knew Blag was mad. There would be no stopping him now. As the corners of his vision started to darken, Scott felt his hand slip from Blag's, his strength leaking away as he desperately tried to draw a breath. Just before he blacked out, the door at the far end slammed open violently.

"Sir, we have to move!" Running into the room, Turner didn't so much as blink at the sight of his boss strangling a teenager, nor the unconscious Doctor on the floor.

"Why?" Blag asked casually, loosening his grip ever so slightly as he turned to face his second in command, making sure Scott was still kept firmly pinned against the wall, although the teenager was finding that air was reaching his protesting lungs slightly more easily than before.

"Trouble!" Turner responded shortly, his eyes clearly sending his boss a message that Scott was not alert enough to pick up on. Immediately Blag frowned, before unceremoniously dropping Scott to the ground. Hitting the stone floor hard, Scott lay perfectly still, concentrating too much on forcing the oxygen back into his lungs to be considering what was going on.

"Deal with him," Blag ordered, sweeping past Turner and out into the corridor beyond, not once turning back to look at the destruction he was leaving behind. Still struggling to draw a breath, Scott didn't notice Turner approaching him, didn't see the gun being drawn from his belt. It was only when the man stood directly over him that the teenager found his eyes focusing on the man who had put his family through so much hell. At this precise moment, Scott wasn't sure who he hated more, Blag or Turner. Still gasping, Scott felt as if he was watching from a distance as Turner levelled his gun at the teenager on the floor, knew that there would be no escape this time. Determined not to shut his eyes and give Turner the satisfaction, a thought suddenly flew into Scott's head that gave him the courage he needed to look Turner straight in the eye.

He would be with his Mom.

Turner looked slightly taken aback by the strange light that came into Scott's eyes as he lay at the man's mercy, still struggling to draw a breath from where Blag had held him, but the ruthless man pushed it from his mind as he casually flicked the safety off the weapon.

"Goodbye, Scott."

And with those words, gunfire exploded through the room. Despite himself, Scott shut his eyes; he didn't want Turner's face to be the last thing he saw. Instead, he pictured his brothers and his father, allowing the image to fill up his mind as the gun went off. This was it, the end, but strangely he felt calm, almost accepting of it. It would mean that he would escape this place, he would escape Blag.

"Scotty? Baby, please, open your eyes." Retreating further into the sanctuary of his mind, Scott ignored the voice that sounded like his terrified father. Scott knew it was only the image in his mind that was providing the voices, making him feel like he wasn't alone. He could feel a warm hand cupping his cheek, a thumb working continuously over his cheekbone as the pleading voice continued. Beginning to grow annoyed, Scott banished the image in his mind. If this was him dying, he would rather do it peacefully than have a persistent voice in his ear. But although the images faded, the voice did not, instead growing more and more frantic. Eventually, Scott opened his eyes.

And found himself looking into his father's tear streaked face, although absolute delight sparked into his eyes as Scott opened his own.

"Scotty! Son, I'm here. It's over, baby, it's over."

"Dad?" Scott whispered, his voice cracked and hoarse as he tried to get his exhausted mind to focus on his father's words. Letting his eyes roam the room, he caught sight of the still unconscious Doctor being wheeled out by paramedics. Then his eyes fell on the body closest to him. Turner hadn't even had the chance to drop his gun as the bullet ripped into him, it was still loosely in his hand where he had fallen. Swallowing hard, Scott tried to hold back the tears and emotions threatening to overwhelm him as another paramedic drew a sheet over Turner, a symbol which Scott knew only too well meant he would no longer have to be afraid of the man.

"I'm here, baby," Jeff responded softly, tears pooling in his eyes. Watching his son, Jeff knew that it wasn't over yet. He didn't want to have to be the one who told Scott that Blag had escaped, that he had somehow managed to slip past the road block as the teams had stormed the building. Seeing Turner stand over his semi-conscious son with a gun that could have only been aimed to kill had nearly destroyed Jeff, but luckily, Paul had meant what he said about Matt disregarding the rule book when it came to seeking justice. The young officer had been a brilliant shot, Turner didn't stand a chance.

"Dad…" Scott choked out, unable to hold it back any longer. Gently navigating himself, Jeff rested Scott's head in his lap, his eyes meeting Matt's before flickering to the manacle still on his son's wrist.

"Let it out, Scotty. It's alright, I'm here. I thought I'd lost you, baby." And so saying, Jeff felt his own tears begin to slip free as Scott shook with suppressed emotion. Neither of them seemed to notice Matt working to free Scott until a sudden clang made Jeff look up, sagging in relief when the cuff was seen to be sitting innocently on the floor. Running his hand softly through Scott's hair, Jeff, carefully pulled his son into a sitting position before enveloping him in the strongest embrace he could manage.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's over now, my baby, it's all over." Finally, the words seemed to be making their way through to the teenager and the floodgate was opened as Scott began to sob, clinging to his father with all of his limited strength, determined that he was not going to let go any time soon, just in case his lifeline disappeared again.

"Mr Tracy, we need to get him to the hospital." A different set of paramedics had arrived, stretcher next to them, with the clear indication of moving Scott. Jeff, however, had other ideas. He had absolutely no intention of letting Scott go any time soon, knowing that if they had even been a second later, his son would have been lost to him forever. Slipping one hand behind his head and around his neck and the other under his legs, Jeff somehow managed to stand up, his sixteen year old son in his arms. Scott didn't seem to notice the change in position, however, but continued to grip his father tightly, tremors racking his frame.

Stumbling outside, Jeff caught sight of Samson being held back by the police and looking furious about it. Technically, they should have been holding Jeff back as well, but the father had slipped through the second they had arrived, determined nothing was going to stand in the way of him getting to Scott. Matt had seen him, but only motioned for him to stay close, he seemed to realise what it meant to Jeff. The second Jeff appeared in the doorway, Samson froze, his gaze locked on the still shaking Scott, before darting through the gap that had been created whilst the policeman had been distracted by their appearance, and racing up to them.

Skidding to a stop next to them, Samson didn't say anything as he gazed down at the boy in Jeff's arms. After a moment, he lifted his head to meet Jeff's eyes. Jeff nodded softly in turn. They had done it.


	17. Chapter 17

**I cannot thank you enough for all of the amazing support with this, it has meant so much! Special thanks to those of you I can't respond directly too!**

"Sir?" Shifting his gaze over to the paramedic hovering anxiously next to him, Jeff nodded his understanding before continuing to carry Scott over to the waiting ambulance. The teenager had yet to react, simply continuing to cling to his father and shake, almost as if he couldn't physically get the tears out any more. He needed to let them go, to allow the emotions to spew forth, but Scott didn't have the strength, not for emotions that overpowering.

Climbing in, Jeff sat himself down in the chair, navigating his son into a more comfortable position. The paramedic climbed in after him and quickly shut the doors, giving the signal to his colleague in the front and causing the vehicle to be sent speeding back towards the hospital, sirens wailing their distress at the situation the Tracy family had found themselves in. Giving Jeff a pointed look, the paramedic motioned towards the bed with his head, but Jeff shook his head obstinately as Scott continued to clutch even more tightly at his father.

"Mr Tracy, I need to examine him."

"Can't it wait until we get there?" Jeff asked, his voice almost breaking as his own withheld emotions sought a release. "He needs me more than he needs a check-over at the moment."

Sighing, the paramedic stepped back, seemingly knowing that it was pointless trying to argue with Jeff. Instead, he simply placed a blanket around Scott, allowing Jeff to tuck it around him gently, causing the trembling to subside slightly. Drawing back in surprise, Jeff hadn't even considered that his son might be cold. Slowly removing one of his hands, he rested the back of his hand against Scott's forehead, frowning when he felt how clammy it was. Glancing up at the paramedic, Jeff caught sight of the all-knowing expression on his face, a clear indicator of why he wanted to examine Scott now rather than waiting until they reached the hospital.

Carefully sliding his arm back under Scott's legs, Jeff gently slid Scott over onto the bed, perching on the edge himself so that his son didn't have to surrender the vice-like grip he had on him. The paramedic made to move forward to examine Scott, and suddenly, for the first time, the teenager seemed to be aware of his surroundings. Seeing a stranger begin to approach him, Scott didn't seem to realise that his father was there as well before the terror began to build.

"No," he muttered quietly, subconsciously tightening his grip on Jeff without seeming to realise that he was there. The medic adopted a soothing position, murmuring in a low voice to try and calm the terrified boy as the fright made itself apparent in his eyes, but Scott didn't react. Instead, he watched the stranger continue to advance on him, before suddenly letting out a blood-curdling scream that made Jeff jump about a foot in the air in shock.

"Scotty, baby, look at me. It's alright, I'm here, shh, shh, shh. Come on Scotty, look at me."

Jeff's words, however, fell on deaf ears as Scott continued to yell, his emotions instead choosing that way to vent themselves. The paramedic had stepped back and was busy plucking something out of an overhead locker when Scott suddenly stopped, his eyes meeting his father's properly for the first time. Leaning forward smoothly, Jeff refused to even blink.

"Scott?"

"Dad?" Scott croaked, before all the blood drained from his face and he slumped back on the bed as his eyes rolled up. The second Scott lost consciousness, the paramedic sprang forward, lifting his eyelids and peering into his eyes, muttering notes to himself the whole time. After a few minutes, he finished his examination and began setting up equipment in the back of the ambulance.

"What is it?" Jeff cried, his heart pounding uncomfortably hard.

"Severe dehydration, lack of nutrients, looks like at least a fracture in his left wrist, plus the bruising around his throat. His temperature is far too high, but it isn't clear what is yet causing it. He looks like he has actually been relatively lucky, considering what he has been through."

"How?" Jeff murmured softly, once more cupping his hand around Scott's cheek in the hope his son would be able to feel his presence, wherever he was. Watching the paramedic set up an IV line and begin to replace some of the fluids Scott was desperately lacking, Jeff couldn't help but remember the exchange between Virgil and John earlier that day. How could so much have happened within such a short space of time? It was only three days ago when he had left for work hoping to sign a deal that would mean he could spend more time with his boys.

"I've seen kidnapping victims before, Mr Tracy. Trust me, Scott is lucky. At least he is alive." As the bluntness of the man's words washed over him, Jeff sat up sharply, sucking in a breath as images of Turner standing over Scott overwhelmed him. He could vaguely hear the paramedic calling his name, trying to get a reaction from him, but Jeff couldn't hear him. The image was burnt onto his mind. If they had only been a couple of seconds later…

With the realisation of how close he was to losing his eldest son, Jeff suddenly slumped forward in his seat, causing the paramedic to swear now that he had two unconscious patients to deal with. Luckily for him, by the time he had got Jeff lying down, the father was beginning to come back around again, the shock of what could have happened having momentarily got too much for him. Lack of sleep plus all the intense emotions he had been through over the last couple of days meant his system had simply rebelled against thinking about what could have so easily happened to Scott and stopped him from going down that train of thought by shutting his mind down.

Letting out a soft groan as he flickered his eyes open, Jeff frowned momentarily when he found himself staring at the ceiling, before realising what happened and sitting up, almost a little too quickly.

"Sorry for fainting on you," Jeff apologised to the paramedic, feeling slightly embarrassed over the fact that he had fainted. With everything he had been through over the last few days, it seemed silly to have done something as pathetic as that.

"From what I hear, you've been lucky to last this long, Sir. No, don't get up, Mr Tracy, there is nothing you can do for Scott at the moment, just stay conscious for him. When was the last time you ate?"

Pausing, Jeff found he actually had to think about it. Whilst fluid-wise he was fine - the copious amounts of coffee had seen to that if nothing else - his worry for his son had completely destroyed his appetite.

"I thought as much," the man responded shortly with a small smile before tossing Jeff a chocolate bar. "It's not much, but it'll get your blood sugar levels up until Scott is settled. Promise me you'll get something to eat as soon as you can?"

Nodding vaguely, Jeff's avoidance of actually promising didn't get wasted on the paramedic, but he was distracted from making a comment when Scott began to stir, his eyes scrunching up in pain as he let out a low moan of distress. Before the uniformed man could so much as turn around, Jeff was across the ambulance in a flash, almost falling onto the bed as it turned a corner at the same time. Resting his hand lightly on Scott's head, Jeff found himself almost holding his breath as Scott moaned again. Frowning, the paramedic watched Scott through narrowed eyes for a moment, before turning away.

"What?" Jeff found himself crying again, his hand seeking out Scott's and gripping on tightly.

"He isn't waking really. His system has been through too much, that's why he passed out. It's his body's way of protecting him. He won't wake for a while, hopefully. It's what he needs, he'll feel a lot better physically if he doesn't wake for at least a day, his fluid levels should have at least reached normal by then."

"Oh Scotty," Jeff muttered, love pouring out in his simple words as he pressed a kiss to his son's forehead, frowning when he felt how clammy it still was. Glancing over at the man, Jeff opened his mouth when he saw the paramedic had his back to them.

"Excuse me-,"

"Tim."

"Tim. Is he supposed to be this clammy still? He's burning up."

"Take this," Tim responded, throwing a damp cloth over to Jeff. "I can't give him anything until we've done a blood test. The puncture mark on his right arm shows they've given him something. I have to know what before I administer anything. The fluids are the only thing I feel safe giving him because he needs them so badly it would be worse to wait."

Gently laying the cloth across Scott's forehead, Jeff felt his frown deepen as Scott moaned again. How he desperately wanted his son to wake up so that he could comfort him properly, so he could hold him in his arms and tell him how much he loved him, how proud he was of him and that he would never leave them on their own again. Bathing his flushed face and neck with the cool flannel, Jeff didn't notice as the ambulance skidded to a stop outside the hospital and the doors were opened to admit the waiting hospital staff. As one doctor tried to move Jeff out of the way, he obstinately clung tighter to Scott, much to their exasperation.

"Just let him stay," Tim eventually barked, practically cornered in his own ambulance as the team rushed to do what they could for Scott. Unfortunately, none of the medical staff that had been on hand to help with John were there, meaning that there was no one Jeff could turn to in order to get the message across to his family that their brother and grandson was safe.

Eventually, they had Scott on a trolley and were wheeling him along into the hospital, IV line attached to one arm and his father attached to the other. Pausing before the doors of the ER room, one of the doctors tried to get Jeff to let go.

"Mr Tracy, we can't treat him unless you let us. You have to let him go, you'll still be able to see him."

"He won't know what is going on, he needs me beside him." The doctor paused as if considering his words, but then something distracted Jeff. Glancing along the corridor, the father felt his heart burst through his chest at the familiar figure standing menacingly at the end of the hallway.

"No!" Jeff whispered, his eyes locked on the man who had caused him so much pain. He stumbled a step forward and that was all the encouragement the doctor needed as he whisked Scott through to the treatment room, leaving Jeff staring down the corridor. The roof of his mouth going dry as his palms began to sweat, Jeff didn't realise he was swaying until someone caught him firmly by the shoulder and pushed him into a nearby seat before handing him a cup of water. Jeff tried to take the cup, but his hand refused to co-operate, and instead it slipped straight through his grasp and splashed over the floor and his feet.

"Tracy, come back." Hearing the sharp voice, Jeff blinked and eventually tore his gaze away from the end of the corridor, only to find himself looking into Matt's concerned face. It hadn't even occurred to him that the officers would be returning to the hospital.

"Scott!" Jeff yelled, jumping immediately to his feet and racing for the doors leading to the ER. He had made it halfway before Matt sprang after him, catching him around the chest and holding him back.

"You can't go in there, sir."

"I don't care. Scott! I can't leave him again, not now. Let me go. Scott!"

"Jeff, calm down!" Stunned into submission by Matt's use of his first name, Jeff stopped fighting and instead walked the rest of the way. Matt let him, but he stayed close by, positioning himself so that if Jeff tried to make a break for it, he would have to get past Matt before he got through the doors.

"Blag. He's here. Standing at the end of the corridor."

**Uh oh... but is all as it seems?**


	18. Chapter 18

**I cannot thank you enough for all of your amazing support with this, it means we've topped over 200 reviews, I can't believe it! It's slightly spooky that since I begun posting this, I have no just done my first term at uni, has this story really been going on for that long? Can't believe you are not all bored with it yet!**

**This chapter a bit longer, I just couldn't work out where to stop it. Hope you enjoy!**

Startled, Matt let his head spin around to where Jeff was pointing, but saw no one there. Sighing, he knew precisely where this was going.

"He isn't here. He is not going to get within a hundred miles of this place. You haven't eaten, you haven't slept and you're out of your mind with worry. Your brain is playing tricks on you. Blag isn't here, Mr Tracy, you have nothing to worry about."

Leaning against the door, Jeff rested his forehead on the glass as he watched the team work on his son, tears running down his cheeks. As his gaze accidentally shifted along to the next bed, Jeff frowned before glancing back at Matt.

"Is that-?"

"Yep." Matt sighed heavily, leaning on the door himself and gazing into the room with a sad expression. "Paul got hit. He's gonna be alright, he was lucky. It was one of the accomplices that got him. Lucky shot, no one can ever hit Paul."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." And before any more could be said, all hell broke loose in the emergency room. Jumping in surprise as one of the doctors let out a shout of surprise, both Jeff and Matt looked sharply up to see one of the doctors sitting on the floor. Letting his eyes roam up, Jeff felt his heart leap into his mouth as he caught sight of Scott. Once more awake, the teenager was fighting furiously against the medical staff, determined to get away from them.

"Someone sedate him!" one of the doctors yelled, trying to pin down one of Scott's arms. As other medical staff took his lead and began to pin down the struggling youth, Jeff burst through the doors. Scott didn't seem to see him, struggling even harder since the word sedation was mentioned, his eyes wide and scared. As one of the doctors approached with the needle, Jeff sent himself sprinting across the room, yelling at the man to stop. Instead of listening to the frantic father, he merely motioned to one of his colleagues, who met Jeff half way across the room and held him back.

Struggling almost as hard as his son, Jeff felt his strength ebb away as he hopelessly watched the terror on Scott's face as the doctor approached. Completely restrained by the rest of the medical staff, Scott had no choice but to allow the man to empty the syringe into his arm. Blinking away tears, Jeff could only watch as the sedation took hold and Scott slowly relaxed, the tension leaving his face as he fell asleep. After a moment, the doctors and nurses stood back, panting, but it wasn't over yet.

"Why the hell did you do that? Couldn't you see he was terrified?"

"Mr Tracy, what are you doing in here? We were trying to help him. Scott would only have hurt himself if he carried on resisting."

"Sir, we have reason to believe that the kidnapper used a sedative on Scott, hence the reason he was so terrified. You should have consulted his father before administering anything that got an obvious reaction."

Spinning in surprise at the cold voice behind him, Jeff hadn't noticed Matt enter the room, but the officer looked almost as angry as Jeff felt. He was obviously feeling his colleague being injured more than he had let on, making Jeff wonder how close it had been for Paul.

"Do you have an extensive knowledge of medicine, officer?" the first doctor asked coolly, eyeing Matt with distaste. Ignoring their bickering, Jeff moved past the rest of the staff, dropping onto the edge of Scott's bed. Once more picking up his son's unresponsive hand, Jeff sighed deeply as he pressed it against his cheek.

"I'm here, baby. No one is going to hurt you again."

"You had no right!"

"You have no authority here!"

Groaning at the yelling going on around him, Jeff closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Scott's hand, trying to convince himself that his son was really here and alive, and that he was going to be alright. Although judging by that reaction, it was going to be some time before his son was truly alright.

"Gentlemen, shall we move this outside?" A firm female voice suddenly cut through the air like a knife, causing Jeff to open his eyes in surprise and slowly look behind him. Rachel stood in the doorway, his mother right behind her. As Rachel glared at the doctor, Jeff realised with a start how terrifying the motherly nurse could look when she was irritated. As both men glared at each other one last time before backing down, Ruth crossed the room, her hand resting lightly on Jeff's shoulder as she gazed down at the still form of her grandson.

"Who's with the boys?" Jeff muttered, his eyes locked on Scott's face with the same intensity with which he had watched John sleep only that morning.

"Mr Samson," his mother responded, just as quietly, her gaze also latched onto Scott. "That's how we knew you were back. Jeff, he told the boys Scott was back, they are begging to see him. What do I tell them?"

"Nothing," Jeff responded, feeling his mother tighten her grip in warning on his shoulder. Knowing that she had misunderstood, Jeff pressed on before she grew angry. Ruth Tracy was a scary person to cross when she was fired up, something her son could vouch for with no hesitation.

"Nothing, because I am going to tell them myself. I need to speak to the doctor and find out how long Scott is expected to remain unconscious, then I'm going to see the boys. This is something that I have to tell them myself."

Glancing back over his shoulder at his mother, Jeff caught sight of the approval in her eyes as she gave her son's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"I'll stay with Scotty," she stated softly, a tone Jeff knew left no room for arguments. Not that he would want to argue. He would have asked her to stay anyway, he didn't want Scott left on his own, just in case. Before anything more could be said, Rachel bustled over, her kind demeanour firmly back in place now that the bickering had stopped. Pausing by Jeff's side, she looked down on Scott and sighed deeply.

"So this is Scott. Mr Tracy, Virgil is asking for you."

"I'm going to them now," Jeff responded, standing up. For a long moment, he held tightly onto Scott's hand, before his mother gently prised his fingers away, holding Scott herself.

"I'm here, Jeff. Go."

"Rachel, do you think you can find out how long Scott will be under?"

"Four hours at the least," Rachel replied promptly, making Jeff blink at her in surprise. Smiling gently, she gave the father a small push towards the door. She had found the answers to all the questions she was anticipating being thrown at her whilst trying to sort out the angry doctor. That man had always irritated her. He was a good doctor, no denying it, but he knew it, meaning that as far as he was concerned, everyone else was wrong. Rachel had to admit she had taken pleasure in taking him off Scott's case and assigning the doctor who had dealt with John instead. To many, she was just a nurse, but the kind woman held so much more power than that.

Pausing one last time at the doors, Jeff couldn't help but look back, only to receive a nod from his mother that clearly told him to not keep the rest of the boys waiting. Taking a deep breath, Jeff squared his shoulders and stepped out of the door, despite wanting to be back with Scott. It wasn't fair on the others if he wasn't the one to deliver the news. They had coped with so much without him as it was, it was the least he could do.

Jogging down the corridor, Jeff found that he could remember the route well enough from having gone down it a day ago with John. Just as he climbed the stairs leading up to John's room, he almost crashed headlong into a figure heading up the same way. Stepping back sharply, Jeff found that his features allowed a smile to appear as he steadied Tim.

"Aha, Tracy, just the man I was looking for," he began quickly, cutting in before Jeff could make his escape. With a smile, Tim reached into his pocket and tossed Jeff a chocolate bar. "Think you forgot this."

Taking it from the young man with a smile, Jeff regarded him seriously for a moment.

"What are you doing up here, Tim? Shouldn't you be downstairs?"

"Probably." The paramedic smiled guiltily. "A pal of mine was admitted earlier so I was checking up on him. Then I remembered you still hadn't eaten so thought I'd head down to ER to find you. What are you doing up here? I thought you would be with Scott."

"I was, but now my other boys are waiting for me."

"You have more sons in the hospital?" Tim asked, sounding astonished.

"Care to meet them?" Jeff said suddenly, struck by an idea. He wanted the rest of the boys, especially John and Virgil, to be as comfortable as possible in accepting that uniforms did normally mean help. And Tim was such a friendly young man. If they had taken to Paul, then Jeff was sure he would have no problem at getting them to accept Tim. It might also make it easier breaking the news about their brother if someone was with him who could actually explain what was going on.

"I'd be honoured. I've got ten minutes of my break left, so I've got nothing better to do." And so saying, Jeff led the way up the stairs, this time remembering to eat the chocolate. To his surprise, the sugar did him the world of good, clearing his head slightly and just making him feel generally better. Sensing Tim watching him out of the corner of his eye, Jeff grinned ruefully. So maybe he should have remembered to eat before now, but he could honestly say that the thought of food had never crossed his mind. He was glad that his mother had been around, it meant that the rest of the boys had at least had something substantial. Passing through the security still guarding John's door, Jeff nodded to them, signifying they had no need to stop Tim.

Stepping through the door, Jeff's eyes were immediately drawn towards the bed. John was still asleep, but so was Alan, curled up to his big brother, one small arm lying across John's chest. Smiling lovingly at the sight, he let his eyes roam the rest of the room. Virgil almost looked as if he hadn't moved from where Jeff had left him, only this time he had a book open on his lap rather than a brother. Gordon was leaning against Virgil, and there could be no other way to describe him: the redhead looked bored. His smile widening, Jeff softly cleared his throat.

"Daddy!" Leaping up, Gordon threw himself at his father, who had just managed to crouch down and open his arms in time.

"Shh, Gordy, we don't want to wake your brothers."

"Dad?" Hearing Virgil's hesitant tones, Jeff caught his son's eye.

"Scott is going to be just fine, Virgil. We've got him back and he is sleeping at the moment, but when he wakes up, I promise that you can see him."

"What about things such as post-traumatic stress?" Virgil asked quietly, biting his bottom lip in worry. Stunned, Jeff blinked at his eleven year old, wondering when on earth his little boy had grown up so much.

"That remains to be seen," Tim butted in, his tone light and friendly. "Hi, I'm Tim."

"Virgil," the boy muttered, looking slightly hesitant but shaking Tim's outstretched hand anyway. Sagging in relief, Jeff let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. It looked like Virgil was going to be alright after all.

"Well, Virgil, looks like you know your stuff, so there will be no hiding anything from you. Your brother might be upset, and he might be scared, so he's gonna need you guys to be strong for him, okay?"

"Scotty doesn't get scared," Gordon declared, finally pulling away from Jeff to glare at Tim as if it was ludicrous for him to even think such a thing.

"Yes he does," Virgil responded, his tone taking on an unusual note. Glancing at him in concern, Jeff caught sight of the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Doesn't," Gordon obstinately countered, shifting his gaze onto his big brother.

"Enough!" Jeff cut in quickly, knowing by the way the small frown was forming on the bridge of his nose that Virgil was simply getting more and more upset. Whilst the father might have missed out on a lot in the last year, the frown had always been a bad sign, ever since the toddler tantrum days. His eyes finally reaching Samson sitting quietly in the corner of the room, Jeff nodded at him, not able to express the gratitude he was feeling towards the man.

"Virgil, can I have a word outside, son?" Shrugging, Virgil scuffed past the rest of the occupants of the room and reached the door, waiting for his father. Untangling himself from Gordon, Jeff gave the little redhead a small push towards Samson, needing to know that Gordon was going to be alright whilst he spoke to Virgil. The young boy scampered over quite happily, allowing Jeff to lay his hand on Virgil's shoulder and steer the boy outside.

"What's this about, Virg?" Jeff asked quietly, sitting down on the nearby chair so that he was eye level with his son. Virgil had managed to stay so strong throughout this that Jeff was puzzled as to what was upsetting him, especially now they knew Scott was safe.

"Gordon seems to think that Scott is invincible. Is he really alright, Dad?"

"Virgil, Tim was right when he said that your brother would be upset and scared. He has been through a great deal and has been very brave, but it is going to take him a little while to adjust. He will be absolutely fine, you'll just need to make sure that you all give him a bit of space, let him take the lead. Why did you say that Scott does get scared?"

"At night, when he thinks we're all asleep, I hear him crying. I know I'm supposed to be asleep, Dad, but I just fake it whenever Scott looks in, I don't want to worry him with me not getting to sleep. Over the last few weeks, I keep hearing him get upset. At first, I thought it was Gordon, so I got up, but when I got outside my room, I heard it was coming from Scott."

By the time Virgil had finished, he had tears of his own running down his cheeks, which he hastily wiped away with the cuff of his sleeve. Using his thumb to brush away a stray one, Jeff gently ruffled Virgil's hair before pulling the boy into a firm embrace.

"I promise I'll make things better, Virg. You have my word."

"I know you will, Dad." Clearing his throat subconsciously at Virgil's faith in him, Jeff nudged him towards the door again.

"Come on, son. Johnny should be waking up soon. Do you want to tell him about Scott?" A bright light sparked into life in Virgil's eyes and he smiled before disappearing through the door. Following him in, Jeff smiled fondly when he saw the eleven year old giving Gordon a cuddle, a clear indication that all was forgiven from before, although Jeff wouldn't put it past Gordon to have already forgotten about it.

Jeff's prediction, whilst being a total guess, had a scary amount of accuracy as John began to stir almost as soon as Jeff stepped through the door. Giving Virgil a meaningful look over Gordon's head, Jeff motioned towards the bed with his head. Virgil happily scampered across the room, perching on the edge of the bed as Jeff took the chair. Seeing John fidget as he slowly woke up, Jeff gently slipped his hand under Alan, scooping the sleeping toddler up and settling him on his lap, sighing deeply as he realised that he was mirroring the exact same position he had held Scott in only hours earlier. Luckily, it had the desired effect, and Alan merely sighed, snuggling into his father as his thumb found his mouth. Pressing a tender kiss onto Alan's fair hair, Jeff looked up just as John opened his eyes.

"Scott?" John barely had his eyes open, but the teenager somehow picked up on the atmosphere of the room and knew that something had happened whilst he had been sleeping.

"He's going to be fine, Johnny," Virgil declared triumphantly, bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed in his excitement. For a moment, John simply looked stunned, but as Jeff nodded in confirmation, a fierce grin spread over his face as he hooked his good arm around Virgil and pulled his little brother close for a hug.

"I can't believe I fell asleep and missed it all. Dad, I'm sorry."

"What for, Johnny?"

"For falling asleep."

"Actually, John, I don't think you had a lot of choice in that. It wasn't just antibiotics that Rachel injected into your drip." Understanding dawned in John's eyes and to Jeff's amusement, he blushed. His boys certainly had some unique traits if John was embarrassed about being administered a sedative whilst being in hospital with a gunshot wound.

"Jeff, I've got to go," Tim broke in softly, hesitant about interrupting, but knowing that his break was over.

"Thank you, Tim. For everything."

Smiling at the father, the young man left the hospital room, wondering whether he still had time to give his friend one last visit before going back on duty.

The next few hours passed in a blur for Jeff. He and his sons talked quietly, more than they had for far too long, anxious not to awaken Alan. Whilst he knew that he still had a lot to make up for, Jeff couldn't help but feel he was beginning to patch things up with the boys. There was a long road ahead, but Jeff felt like they had just taken the first few steps. Glancing at his watch, he sighed, knowing he had to leave them again in order to be with their brother. The sooner the boys were all in one place, the better.

"Boys, your brother will be waking up soon." Seeing the excitement leap into John and Virgil's eyes, Jeff shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, you can't see him yet. Hopefully soon. Are you going to be alright staying with Mr Samson whilst I go down there?"

"Dad, just get him better," John said simply, scooting over so that his father had enough room to slip Alan back onto the bed. Smiling at his sons, Jeff knew both John and Virgil were probably more aware of the situation than he was giving them credit for. Slipping out of the door, Jeff almost crashed headlong into Rachel, the nurse looking startled as Jeff came out of the door.

"Oh Sir, you startled me. I was just coming to find you and check on John. Scott should be waking up within the next half an hour."

"John's awake, has been for at least three hours."

"I thought he might have been," Rachel responded, the all-knowing twinkle coming back into her eye and making Jeff gape at her. The nurse knew full well when John was scheduled to wake up, but also knew time with his family uninterrupted would do the youth far more good than fussing nurses.

"Mr Tracy, before you panic, Scott has been moved into room 301, second door on the left at the bottom of the stairs. Your officer from before has organised security and your mother is still with him."

"Thank you," Jeff said quietly, before almost sprinting down the stairs. He was more than anxious to get back to Scott, wanted nothing more than for his baby to wake up.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you so much once again to all of you who have reviewed. A special thank you to those I can't respond directly too, I want you all to know how much it means to me!**

Five minutes later, and a breathless Jeff was waved through Scott's door by an amused-looking Matt. Ruth jumped on hearing the door open, but merely smiled lovingly at her son as Jeff collapsed into a chair the other side of Scott's bed.

"It is far too easy to get lost in this place," he gasped, clutching at his sides.

"I'm proud of you, Jeff," his mother suddenly commented, watching the panting man whilst maintaining her grip on her eldest grandson's hand.

"Why?" Jeff asked, a somewhat bitter tone infiltrating his voice. "I did this to him. I've let them down, left them on their own for a year, Mom. I lost Lucy, and over the last week, I could have lost them all so easily."

"But you didn't," Ruth cut in, stopping her son in mid rant. She knew how worked up he could get when he wanted, his teenage years had been evidence enough of that. Scott's early teenage years had been similar to those of his father. Ruth had been hard pushed not to simply laugh at the thirteen year old's adamant declarations that he did not need a babysitter, much to his parents' exasperation. It was a scene she had remembered oh so well from her own time as mother to a teenage son.

"You're here for them now, and that is all that counts. Jeff, the boys love you, they'll put this behind them if they know they have their proper father back. But like I said, I'm proud of you. I'm guessing this afternoon went well with the boys, then?"

"They've changed so much, Mom," Jeff said quietly, leaning over and taking Scott's other hand, anxious not to disturb the IV line coming out of the back of his hand. "John and Virgil especially, they have grown up so much in the last year. Even Gordon. I feel like I don't know them anymore."

"There will be time for that," Ruth responded dismissively, standing up and brushing the invisible creases out of her dress. "It's about time I went to see my brave soldier again." And so saying, she dropped a light kiss on Jeff's head, a tender one against Scott's temple and left the room.

"Hey Scotty, I'm here, baby." Pressing his lips to the back of Scott's hand, Jeff sighed deeply as he watched the still and pale face. Far too still and pale in his opinion. Leaning forward so that his elbows were resting against the bed, Jeff propped himself up, wondering how close Rachel's estimations were regarding when Scott would awaken.

"I'm so sorry, son. I should have been there for you and your brothers over the last year. I'm so sorry I made you handle it, and that you've been the one looking after them. I'm sorry, son, so sorry." Sniffing, Jeff sat back up. He needed to be strong for when Scott woke up, not a wreck of a father.

Suddenly, Jeff sat up a little straighter, staring at his son. He could have sworn the hand held loosely in his own had tightened its grip.

"Scotty? Baby? Can you hear me, Scott?" And to Jeff's absolute delight, he was rewarded with another squeeze. Leaning forward with a huge grin on his face, Jeff gently cupped Scott's cheek in his hand, running his thumb soothingly over the flushed skin.

"Come on, Scott, open those eyes for me." A third squeeze responded as Scott stirred a little more, his eyes trying to open, though it was obviously taking a great deal of effort on Scott's part. Reaching over, Jeff hit the call button to alert someone to the fact his son was regaining consciousness. When he glanced back over he met Scott's gaze.

"Dad?"

"Scott. Son. How are you feeling, baby?" Before Scott said anything, however, his eyes darted anxiously around the room, fear beginning to spiral within.

"It's alright, Scotty, you're safe. You're at the hospital, son. You are safe."

It took a little more coaxing, but eventually Scott relaxed back into the pillows, his gaze locked on his father as if to reassure himself the man was really there and not just part of his imagination trying to make him feel safe. In return, Jeff smiled softly at his son, gently running his fingers through the brown locks.

"You didn't half give me a fright, Scotty," Jeff murmured quietly, leaving his hand resting atop Scott's head lovingly. With his eyes shut, Scott smiled in contentment at his father's touch, unknowingly leaning into the contact.

"You're not the only one," he eventually whispered, the smile leaving his face the second he spoke. Swallowing hard, Scott didn't move as a couple of tears leaked out of the corners of his closed eyes, but his father did. Leaning forward, Jeff gently brushed them away with his thumb before mirroring his earlier actions with Virgil and pulling Scott into a firm embrace. For a moment, the teenager stayed stiff, but eventually relaxed, sinking into the comfort he was so desperately needing.

"Let it out, Scott," Jeff whispered into his son's ear, feeling the tremors racking Scott's body. It once again took a moment for Scott to react to his father's words, but when he did so, there was no stopping him. Floods upon floods of tears erupted from the youth, soon having him struggling to draw a breath as he let out the contained emotions not only from the weekend, but also from everything he had been feeling over the last year. As Jeff held him close, trying to hold back his own tears, he was forcibly reminded of John's breakdown on the night Scott had been taken. He really had been away from his boys for far too long.

After nearly half an hour, Scott's breathing eventually began to even out a little and he drew back from his father, shakily wiping his eyes and offering a watery smile, albeit a small one. The sight of it made Jeff's heart soar though, perhaps that was the first stage for Scott, letting all of the emotions out. If he was honest, Jeff would have said he was extremely thankful Scott had been able to cry. It would have worried him senseless if he knew his son was bottling it up, there could be no telling what those sort of intense feelings could do if they were just left to fester. Sitting back with a sigh against his pillows, Scott found that he was hard pushed to keep his eyes open.

"You can go back to sleep, Scotty," Jeff said quietly, watching Scott battle to stay awake. The boy almost looked afraid of what would happen if he went back to sleep, and as if reading his father's thoughts, Scott spoke up again.

"You'll still be here?"

"Yes, Scott, always. Scotty, before you go back to sleep, there is someone I want you to meet, someone who is going to help look after you."

"Who?" Scott asked sleepily, his exhaustion slurring his words. Frowning, Jeff took in the pale complexion, wondering if it was too soon to try to do this considering how John had reacted. But he knew that if Scott was going to be able to get anywhere on the road to his recovery, he needed to be comfortable with the person standing outside of his door.

"Scott, you know the policemen from before were fakes, don't you?" Shuddering slightly, Scott glanced away as he recalled the hatred in Turner's eyes after his attempted escape. Not trusting his voice, the teenager mutely nodded, trying to swallow past the lump that had suddenly found residence in his throat.

"I want you to meet the man who helped find you, the man who is responsible for saving you from Turner. But Scott, your brothers got upset when they first came face to face with them after John… well, after what had happened. I need to know that you are going to be alright with this."

"So do I," Scott muttered, sitting up a little straighter and squaring his shoulders. If his younger brothers could do it, then so could he. Smiling proudly at the flickering protectiveness still present in Scott's eyes at the prospect of something upsetting his brothers, Jeff smoothly crossed over to the door, his eyes locked on his son the whole time.

"Matt? Can you come in for a second?" The instant he heard the officer's response, Jeff was back at Scott's side. He hoped his presence would be enough for things to run smoothly. After all, the others had calmed down significantly once their father had arrived back on the scene and taken control of things.

Whether Scott meant to or not, the second he caught sight of the uniform in the doorway he sucked in a sharp breath. Images of Blag shooting the second officer in front of him and scenes from his attempted escape flickered across his mind, the uniform standing out clearly as if to deliberately haunt him and make this twice as hard as the logical part of his brain was telling him it should be. Unaware of his father watching him closely, Scott took in a deep breath, locking his eyes on Matt, almost as if testing himself as to how long he could carry on looking at the uniform with the images that were flickering across his mind's eye.

"Scott?" Jeff called softly, watching the haunted look in his son's eyes and hating the fact that, intentionally or not, he was the one who had put it there.

"I'm fine," Scott responded tersely, sounding anything but. Jeff, however, was too proud of his boy for confronting his fears so soon. Scott's determination that he was going to face Matt caused the Tracy patriarch to seek out his son's hand, offering whatever support he could. The grip that was returned was vicelike, yet Scott refused to look away.

"You killed Turner?" he eventually asked Matt hoarsely, the shaking in his voice betraying what this was putting him through. Not being sure what precisely Scott had gone through, Jeff kept a close watch, ready to intervene should it appear that things were becoming too much.

"Yes, Scott, I did," Matt responded quietly, meeting Scott's gaze head on, but without appearing intimidating or threatening. He had seen how John especially had reacted to him and Paul when they first arrived, and knew that Scott had been through far worse. It had been down to Paul to calm them down last time, but now he was lying in a hospital bed having fought for his life because of the same people. Matt would be damned if he let his friend down now.

"Thank you," Scott whispered, his voice dropping even more. Feeling the hand clasped in his own let out an involuntary tremor, Jeff caught Matt's eye, and to his relief, the officer nodded, before stepping back out of the door. Almost immediately, Scott relaxed, not having noticed he had tensed up as he let out an explosive breath.

"That was harder than I thought it would be," he eventually admitted, shutting his eyes as he leant back on the pillows once more.

"You did well, son," Jeff said quietly. To his surprise, he found that his eyes were once more swimming with tears, only this time, they were for the pride and love he held for his eldest son, for all of his sons. A sleepy smile emerged at Jeff's comment, but before Scott could come up with an answer, sleep overtook him once more, the extreme emotions coupled with the sedative still coursing through his system meaning he couldn't fight against it any more.

Letting out his own explosive breath, Jeff sagged forward as Scott's breathing evened out again. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but that had gone a lot smoother than the father had dared hope. Scott still had a long way to go, but Jeff could only hope that facing Matt had been the first hurdle overcome. And the fact he had admitted to being scared and letting out the emotions meant Jeff was feeling more light-hearted than he had for a very long time regarding Scott. He only hoped it wasn't too late to be able to patch up the faded relationship between father and son.

Time passed by as Jeff watched his oldest child sleep, the fright and worry present on his face when he was awake fading away into nothing as he became lost in the realm of dreams. Scott's hand clasped in his own, Jeff didn't notice that he was nodding off until a sudden presence in the room made him sit up with a jolt. Instinctively, his eyes were drawn to Scott, but on seeing the teenager still fast asleep, the father stretched as he turned towards the door, only to see Rachel standing there looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr Tracy, I thought you might like an update on your sons' conditions." Noting immediately that this was going to be about more than just Scott, Jeff sat up a little straighter, immediately wide awake.

"Go ahead," he ordered anxiously, only put slightly at his ease by Rachel's calming smile, almost as if the nurse knew he would immediately start worrying. Although considering how she had behaved so far, Jeff wouldn't put it past her to be something of a mind reader. Swivelling in his chair, he couldn't help but muse that that was why she was so good at her job.

"Well, sir…." she began quietly, only to break off as Scott let out a low moan, turning restlessly in his sleep as the voices infiltrated his consciousness. As soon as Rachel stopped speaking, Scott settled back down again.

"Shall we take this outside?" Hesitating, Jeff gazed longingly at his son, wanting nothing more than not to leave him, but he knew that was selfish of him. Scott was asleep, and if what Rachel had to say included his other sons as well, it would be unfair of him not to hear it. As if once more reading his mind, Rachel smiled the small, all-knowing smile and stuck her head out of the door.

"Officer, do you think you could step into the room for a moment?" she requested quietly, her tone leaving no room for argument, forcibly reminding Jeff of his mother. As Matt quickly crossed the threshold into the room, Rachel looked pointedly at Jeff.

"Are you coming to discuss your sons or not, Mr Tracy?" Catching Matt's eye, Jeff let a smile of his own appear as he caught sight of the officer's smirk. Matt knew full well the motherly nurse would be able to make someone do something far more easily than his uniform and badge ever could.

"I'll watch him," Matt stated, knowing Jeff's reluctance to leave. Knowing he was cornered, Jeff stood up, pausing to bend down and place a tender kiss on Scott's head.

"I'll be back in a second, baby," he whispered lovingly, before following Rachel out of the room, not knowing the menace that was once more about to stretch its shadowy fingers over the Tracy family.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you so so much once again to all of you who have reviewed/alerted/favourited this, it means so much to me. Again, a special thank you to those of you whom I can't respond directly too!**

**I hope that everyone has an absolutely amazing Christmas and that all your wishes come true!**

Just as their big brother slept reasonably peacefully downstairs, the remaining Tracy boys were also asleep, the events catching up on them now they knew Scott was safe. John had drifted back off to sleep not long after Jeff had left, the pain he refused to admit to feeling causing him to be lethargic. Gordon had crawled onto the bed not long after, curling up close to both John and Alan and within moments the young child was also asleep. Virgil had been adamant that he wasn't tired, but as Samson tried to engage the curled up boy in conversation, he was finding it harder and harder to keep track of what was being said. It wasn't long before Virgil, too, joined his brothers in the realm of dreams.

Samson had watched the boys sleeping for a few minutes, before standing up and stretching out his aching legs. He didn't need to stay for the security of the boys anymore, the officers outside of the door would see to that. No, he had only stayed because he didn't want them to be alone whilst their father was tearing around the place. Now they were all asleep, however, Samson took the opportunity to pop out for a few moments. After checking with the officers that the boys wouldn't be left alone at all and telling them that if they should awaken before he was back, to keep them company, Samson slipped down the stairs to make a much overdue phone call to his wife. Jeff Tracy wasn't the only one with a family involved in this.

The boys hadn't been on their own long when small whimpers made one of the officers poke his head through the door in concern. All had fallen quiet in the room again, but his eyes were drawn to the boy curled up in one of the hard plastic chairs. A frown dominated his face as he slept, his twitching leg indicating how the crumpled jacket had ended up on the floor. Placing it back over the boy slightly awkwardly, the officer did another quick check of the room before heading back outside again. Guard duty he could deal with, babysitting on the other hand…

No sooner had the man stepped outside when Virgil's leg gave another twitch and sent the jacket plummeting to the floor again. He didn't even know it was there. Samson had covered him up when he had seen the young artist had been shivering in his sleep. His frown deepening, Virgil muttered something unintelligible under his breath as his head tossed to and fro, his breathing quickening as his muttering increased. Without any warning, Virgil's eyes suddenly shot wide open, alert and scared at the same time.

Scott!

Without a second thought he slipped from his chair, glancing around the room frantically. When no one came forward to help, Virgil swallowed hard. He would just have to do this by himself then. The thought of wandering through the hospital on his own nearly terrified the boy, images of what had happened last time he was on his own threatening to overwhelm him. But he knew he had to do it. Knew that once again, his eldest brother was in danger. He couldn't say how he knew, only that he was aware that it had been no ordinary nightmare he had been subjected to whilst he slept. Something was going to happen to Scott and if Virgil didn't face his own fears and leave the safety of this room, it would be too late. Sucking in a sharp breath through his nose, Virgil cast a longing glance at the peaceful slumber his brothers, both elder and younger, were resting in, then squared his shoulders.

Tiptoeing across the room, Virgil inched open the door carefully, almost jumping as the two officers standing outside turned to look at him.

"Where you going then, son?" one asked in a friendly voice, and Virgil forced himself to remember the ones from before had been fakes. These men were here to help, just like the two officers from before had been. His father had promised. Trying to look brave and as if he knew what he was doing, Virgil pulled himself up to his full height.

"I'm going to see my brother," he announced, trying to sound as grown up as possible. He had seen Scott speak to adults like that when they looked down on him when he had picked Gordon and Alan up, and was trying his utmost to mimic his brother.

"Should you be doing that?" the man questioned, trading a small frown with his colleague. Narrowing his eyes in defiance, Virgil forced himself to think of Scott. He had to get past these men; he had to be able to help his brother.

"My dad said I could," he said simply, watching carefully with baited breath as the men traded another glance before nodding. Slipping past them, Virgil reached the top of the stairs before turning back to them, a sudden thought entering his mind.

"He forgot to tell me what room though, he was too worried." Biting his lip, Virgil only hoped they had seen enough of Jeff's emotions to believe he would forget to tell his son the room number. As one of them smiled softly, Virgil forced himself to appear calm.

"301, son. And tell your father to get some rest."

"Yes sir," Virgil answered quickly, before darting off down the corridor. With no clue at all where that room number was, Virgil instead sprinted down the stairs, knowing from one of his father's comments that he had had to climb them to reach John from Scott. Racking his brains frantically for anything else his father may have mentioned that would give him a clue as to his brother's whereabouts, Virgil thought as he ran. He was sure his dad had mentioned something about the room being near the emergency room, and hoping he was right, Virgil changed direction. The entrance was near the emergency room, he could remember where it was from earlier when they had first arrived to see John.

Skidding around the corner, Virgil almost crashed headlong into his grandmother. She had only popped out to get some snacks for the boys, knowing they were close to dozing off and Samson was there to look after them. Seeing a panting and frantic Virgil immediately caused her heart to start beating uncomfortably fast once more.

"And just what are you doing here, young man?"

"Scott! Grandma, I have to see him, something bad is going to happen. Please, we have to get to him, come on."

And so saying, Virgil grabbed his grandmother by the hand and started trying to tug her towards where he hoped Scott's room was. To his surprise, his grandmother resisted his frantic tugging, instead drawing the eleven year old into her with surprising strength for a woman her age. Struggling against her, Virgil tried to hold back tears as the feeling something was going to happen to Scott intensified. He didn't know where the feeling was coming from, couldn't say what was going to happen, he only knew without a doubt that something was going to happen.

"Grandma, please, you… you don't understand, I have-"

"Shh, sweetheart. You've had a bad dream, that's all. You boys have been through a lot, it's alright to admit you are scared. Come on, Virgil, let's get you back upstairs." And in that instant, Virgil knew his grandmother was not going to let go until she had him safely up the stairs. So the young boy did what any self-respecting eleven year old would never be seen doing if he could help it. Hoping it would be enough to startle his grandmother into letting go, Virgil Tracy burst into tears.

To his delight, it had the desired effect. Immediately letting go of her shopping and loosening her grip on her grandson's hand, Ruth bent down to embrace him, but before she could so much as move, Virgil had pulled his hand out and darted off down the corridor. After taking a few steps towards his fast-retreating back, the old woman sighed. She was getting too old to go chasing after him now.

"Mrs Tracy? Is there a problem?" Looking up, Ruth found herself face to face with one of the nurses who had been around for the entire length of the Tracy family's stay in the hospital.

"My grandson, Virgil, he's got some notion in his head something is going to happen to his brother and has run off."

"I'll alert security, Ma'am."

"Thank you," Ruth whispered, praying that someone would find the paranoid boy soon. She couldn't take it if something happened to Virgil as well as Scott and John.

"Mom?" Feeling her heart sink, Ruth turned slowly around to find herself face to face with a flustered Jeff.

"Jeff? Aren't you supposed to be with Scott?"

"I was told you were with Scott. Some porter told me when I was talking to Rachel that you had returned to sit with him and said I should go back upstairs to the boys."

"Virgil!"

"Virgil?" Jeff asked, completely bewildered. He was getting a horrible feeling about this whole thing, but now his mother had just added to his worries.

"Virgil is down here. He ran off absolutely adamant that something was going to happen to Scott."

Blinking at his mother and rather startled, Jeff paused for a moment, before turning on his heel and setting off at a sprint back towards Scott's room, fear lending him more speed than the father of five normally possessed.

Virgil had no room left for anything but fear as the feeling intensified. By some unknown luck, he had sped off in the right direction, ducking anyone who looked as if they might try and stop him. One nurse had already yelled after him not to run as the child had gone sprinting past her, but Virgil had not heeded her words in the slightest, instead continuing his mad dash through the hospital. Slowing down just long enough to be able to read the numbers on the doors, Virgil skidded to a dead stop when he reached 302. He could see the door to Scott's room was slightly open, and swallowing hard, the boy tiptoed forward.

Pausing again just outside of the door, Virgil couldn't help but notice that his hand was shaking. Attempting to still the movement, he clasped it behind his back, accidentally leaning forward slightly as he did so. The movement, however, caused Virgil to glance into the room, only to draw back, heart beating fast. Whilst he wasn't sure who he was seeing, Virgil knew the pair of shoes he could see belonged to an officer, and the angle at which he had seen them meant he must have been lying down. But why would an officer who was supposed to be protecting his big brother be lying down? Suddenly jumping, Virgil stared towards the door in concern. There could be no denying it, someone was struggling in there. Straining his ears, Virgil tried to suppress the overwhelming urge to burst into tears properly this time, and forced himself to tiptoe closer, allowing the frightened boy to get a proper look into the room.

A man he didn't know was standing over the bed, his back to the door, meaning Virgil had no idea who he was. He didn't need to know, however, for the pillow he held securely in his hands was telling the boy everything. It was preventing Scott from breathing! He could see his brother's legs kicking feebly in an attempt to dislodge the man, but he must have been strong because even Scott, the strongest person Virgil knew, was not able to move him. As Scott's legs fell still, Virgil knew what he needed to do. He had known ever since he woke up.

**Happy Christmas everyone!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Has just come to the sad realisation that there is only one more chapter left after this! :( It has gone so quick, need to get writing again! Why does everything always come to an end together, it is most unfair!**

**As usual, a huge thank you to all of you who have reviewed, I'm sorry for leaving you on such a cruel place (not!)**

**Happy New Year everyone! Hope 2011 brings you all your dreams!**

Charging into the room, the boy was glad that the mystery figure had his back to the door and so didn't see him coming. The element of surprise was on Virgil's side, something he was extremely grateful for as he sent himself crashing into the man. Whether he was too surprised to react properly or not, the man fell over sideways, pulling Virgil down with him. Hitting the ground hard, Virgil lay gasping for a second, unaccustomed to the rush of adrenaline pumping through him, but before he could regain his senses, two things happened. The first was one of the most welcome sounds Virgil thought he had ever heard as Scott sucked in a gasping breath, allowing the oxygen to flood back to his lungs for the second time in just over a day.

The second, however, wasn't as welcoming as the man regained his balance and sense long before Virgil could. Before the artist could comprehend anything, the man had moved. He had seized a fistful of Virgil's hair, yanking his head back and pulling the boy into a kneeling position with a gasp.

"Another Tracy brat, I presume?" the man snarled as he twisted his hand viciously and caused Virgil to cry out in pain. Not being able to see anything but the ceiling, Virgil didn't notice Scott suddenly move until his brother was standing in front of him, albeit looking rather pale and weaving slightly on the spot.

"Let. Him. Go." Scott snarled, sounding more ferocious than the strange man holding Virgil ever could manage. Whilst Virgil couldn't help but feel a rush of pride towards his big brother, it was reduced somewhat by the slightly maniacal laugh coming from the man behind him as the hand tightened its grip.

"I don't think we've ever had the pleasure of being introduced," he began conversationally, standing up and pulling Virgil up with him, his other hand gripping the boy's upper arm in a vice like grip. Eyes watering, Virgil sought out Scott, his face pleading with his big brother to do something to stop the man hurting him. Scott offered him a small smile, one shadowed by whatever it was he had been through since the brothers had last been together, before flicking his gaze back to the man.

"I won't ask again, Blag."

"Why, Scotty, you're sounding all protective. Have you forgotten the Doctor already? Have you forgotten precisely what I can do to your brother?" And so saying, Blag's hand moved from Virgil's upper arm, instead twisting the limb behind his back and causing Virgil to once more cry out.

"Please, stop it!" Scott cried, his eyes frightened as he glanced between Blag and Virgil, clearly wondering what he could do to help without causing his brother any more pain.

"Now that's the Scotty I know," Blag commented with a wink, pulling Virgil closer to him and bending down to speak quietly in his ear, his eyes never leaving Scott's frantic gaze.

"Did you know that your brother screams at the sight of needles? Did you know that I can make him beg as easily as I can break your arm, right this minute if I so choose? I bet you didn't know, either, that I promised Scott here that I wasn't going to let him go…" And so saying, Blag suddenly pushed Virgil away from himself, hard, sending the boy flying towards his brother. Automatically, Scott caught Virgil, wincing as the movement jarred his fractured wrist, but pulling his brother close to him all the same. Pushing Virgil behind his back, Scott didn't try to hide the fact he was shaking uncontrollably, didn't try to deny that the terror of having Blag in the hospital was making him almost pass out again.

Virgil, however, was almost a smelling salt to Scott's hazy brain. He knew full well what Blag was capable of, and whilst he hadn't been around to be able to protect John, there was no way he was going to let the madman hurt another of his brothers.

"Do what you like to me, Blag, hell, you've done enough. But you leave him out of this."

"Oh, I don't think so." With a flourish, Blag reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the gun Scott knew he had used to shoot the Doctor. Involuntarily taking a step backwards, Scott shepherded his brother as far away from Blag as he could possibly manage, using himself as a shield for the younger boy. His gaze flickered momentarily towards the unconscious Matt, but it took no more than a quick glance to know the officer couldn't help them.

"I told you I wasn't letting you go, Scott," Blag said threateningly, his voice dark and cold. Turning his head away, Scott squeezed his eyes shut, thankful he had at least been able to see his father and one of his brothers before Blag finished him off. The expected sound, however, never came, as the door violently burst open behind Blag. Standing framed in the doorway, the sight of a fuming Jeff Tracy had never been more welcoming to his sons than it was now.

Raising the gun again, Blag instead aimed it at the man who had caused him so much trouble, but Jeff was not to be cowed by a mere gun when the man who had put his whole family through absolute hell was once more standing in front of him and threatening his sons. Striding forward, Jeff's fist connected long before Blag's trigger finger, sending the man crashing to the floor. The gun spun out his hand, and before either man could try to go after it, Scott picked it up with a shaking hand, aiming it towards Blag.

"Scotty," Jeff called quietly, suddenly concerned about what his son was about to do. He still didn't know what Blag had put the teenager through, but could tell by Scott's quick and shallow breathing the boy was beyond terrified. As soon as Jeff's attention was distracted by Scott, however, Blag swept his legs under Jeff's, causing him to crash down onto the floor as well.

"Dad!" Virgil yelled, trying to come out from behind Scott and go to his father's aid, but his big brother pushed him back again, the gun still aimed at Blag.

"Go on Scott," Blag whispered, locking eyes with the youth. "You know you want to. Pull the trigger, seek revenge for the hurt caused for your family."

"Scott, put it down, son. I won't let him hurt anyone again…" As both men tried to cajole Scott into taking one route or the other, the door once more burst open. With one arm still bound across his chest, John made quite an impressive silhouette in the doorway, even if Gordon was pressed close behind him. The expression on the blond's face, however, even made Virgil take a step back. The two boys moved slowly into the room, Gordon clutching onto the back of John's pyjama top, until they came to a stop next to Scott. Gently reaching out, John took the gun from his brother and tossed it across the room, making sure it would end up in a safe place. As Jeff scrambled to his feet and joined his sons, the five Tracys stood side by side, glaring down at the man who had nearly torn their family apart.

Before Blag could say anything, security finally arrived, pouring into the room en mass. Within seconds, Blag had been pulled to his feet, handcuffed and marched from the room, almost without a glance towards the Tracys. The doctor arrived next, bending over Matt's crumpled figure before barking out instructions and causing a trolley to be wheeled in. Even as Matt was carried out, still no one seemed to spare the Tracys a glance. Silence fell in the room as they all stood stock-still, thoughts racing through their heads regarding what had just happened. For a moment, no one moved, but suddenly, Scott sank to his knees, his shoulders shaking.

Within seconds, John dropped to his brother's side, draping his good arm around his brother and pressing himself close.

"Scott….Scott…"

"It's okay, Johnny, I'm okay." And just like that, Scott suddenly went from kneeling to sitting, looking about him as if coming out of a dream, as if the teenager had suddenly realised that the whole ordeal was indeed over. Virgil dropped down beside his brothers, crawling over to Scott's side. Automatically, the elder brother draped his arm over the younger, hugging Virgil close. Gordon was not to be left out though, and the young redhead somehow managed to navigate himself through the three of them, crawling onto Scott's lap and wrapping his arms around his brother's neck.

"We thought we'd lost you," Virgil eventually whispered, unshed tears restricting his voice.

"And I thought I'd lost you. When Turner told me about John…I thought…"

"Shh, shh, shh," Jeff calmly soothed, enveloping all four of them into an embrace. "It's over, boys. It's over and we're all back together."

"Scotty!" Hearing the delighted yell, all four looked up, only to see their grandmother in the doorway, a squirming toddler in her arms. As Jeff gently nodded to his mother, she placed Alan on the floor, allowing the little boy to run across the room and throw himself in delight at his brother.

"Hey, Sprout," Scott murmured softly, suddenly feeling very tired. "Did you behave?"

"No," Alan muttered guiltily, glancing up at his father with big eyes. "I didn't let Gran'ma put me to bed."

Expecting a rebuke from the boy who normally looked after him so closely, Alan was most surprised when Scott suddenly started laughing, cuddling Alan even closer.

"Oh, I've missed you, Sprout."

"Come on, Scott, you need to be back in bed, son." And so saying, Jeff gently pulled Scott to his feet before giving him a small nudge towards the bed. Yawning, Scott complied for once, sinking back onto the pillows with a sigh.

"Hey, Virg, Scott's pulled out his IV line as well," John commented, shooting his younger brother a grin as Scott glanced between the two of them. As Virgil's eyes lit up in delight, Jeff adamantly shook his head.

"Leave it, Virgil!"

"But I-"

"Leave it. John, Gordon, what are you two doing down here? Shouldn't you be in bed, Johnny?"

"I've spent the whole day in bed. I'm bored," John whined, shooting his father a pathetic look as he perched on the edge of Scott's bed, trying to hide his yawn. He didn't know why he was quite so tired, but he didn't want anyone to know, especially his father, as no doubt Jeff would also find a way of making him admit that his arm was giving him more trouble than he wanted any one to know.

"And besides, Grandma came in saying something about a frantic Virgil and Scott, and I couldn't just leave it. Gordon…well, Gords kind of…followed me."

"Gordon?" Jeff asked, a slight warning in his tone as the seven year old looked up at him, eyes wide and big - the innocent expression that normally meant Gordon knew he had done something wrong.

"Didn't want Johnny to leave me," Gordon pouted, causing the said brother to sigh and hug him close. Remembering Gordon's nightmare from only a few days ago, Jeff smiled fondly down at him, not having the heart to take it any further, not after everything.

"Mr Tracy?" Seeing a woman in the doorway he didn't recognise, Jeff instinctively took a protective step towards the bed, noting Scott was dozing off already, Alan still in his arms.

"You are -?"

"I was one of your lawyers working on the deal, don't you recall, Sir?" Jeff didn't, his mind had blocked out as many memories of the day when his world had fallen apart as he could, but he nodded anyway, trying to hide his smile as John carefully curled up on the edge of the bed, protecting his shoulder.

"So…?" Jeff asked bluntly, cringing a little when he felt the piercing stare his mother sent him at his tone. She still had the power to make him feel as young as Gordon.

"The evidence against Blag is overwhelming, the recording's providing everything we need. The trial will only be a formality. You probably haven't considered this, nor want to know about it now, but sir, you just obtained all of Blag's businesses. Mr Tracy, you are as good as a billionaire."

"Oh, Jeff…."

"What do you propose to do with it, Mr Tracy? I can make any arrangements you deem necessary."

"I'm going to save the world," Jeff replied simply, sitting down on the edge of Scott's bed and pulling Gordon onto his lap. The lawyer seemed to know that she was no longer wanted, nor required, and excused herself as Jeff draped his free arm around Virgil. Looking down on his three sleeping sons and the two he was holding close, Jeff smiled contently. The picture was once again complete.


	22. Chapter 22

**Well, here we go, this is the final chapter! I cannot thank you enough for all the support and reviews you have given on this, it really has meant a lot to me. A special thank you to Whirlgirl, you write such supportive and amazing reviews, thank you so much!  
**

**A huge, huge, HUUGE thank you to Silver Bee for beta-ing this for me, not to mention the fact that she has reviewed every chapter as well, thank you doesn't even cover that, but thank you!**

**Hope that you have all enjoyed this, and that this final chapter doesn't disappoint! **

Jeff leant against the wall, arms casually folded across his chest and a smile on his face as he watched the interaction between the boys. Rachel had somehow arranged to have Scott and John moved into a joint room, not yet prepared to release the latter until she was convinced everything that had happened wasn't about to cause any complications. Scott was still pale, but the doctor was certain his fluid levels had practically returned to normal, as long as he stayed connected to his IV line for another day. Something the youth had not been happy about, but after John had told him the story about Virgil being determined to fix his, Scott had complied with a good nature.

A night's sleep later, however, and the three remaining boys were looking much better. Jeff had even managed to persuade Virgil and Gordon to accompany him and Alan over to the hotel for the night. Not that Jeff actually stayed there, however. He had stayed long enough for the boys to fall asleep, and then left them with his mother whilst he headed back over to the hospital. Samson had popped in just before Scott had fallen back asleep, long enough for the youth to know just what his favourite teacher had done for the family, but the man headed back home to his own family not long after that.

Watching them now, Jeff shifted position slightly as he recalled the interview from the day before. Just before he could whisk the boys across the road, two uniformed men had turned up, immediately causing John to flinch and Scott to look away. To his delight, however, both Virgil and Gordon had been fine, Virgil even moving to sit in between his big brothers, offering them what reassurance the eleven year old could manage. Shutting his eyes, Jeff let the memory of the day wash over him.

"_I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr Tracy, but there are some things we need to sort out."_

_Turning from where he had been playing with Alan, Jeff narrowed his eyes at the police men in the doorway, hearing John suck in a sharp breath._

"_Does it have to be now?"_

_"I'm afraid so, Sir. If you would just care to step outside for a moment?" As Jeff hesitated, a small voice broke through, sounding more like his youngest son than his oldest._

"_Dad…" Hearing Scott's whisper, Jeff turned his head towards the bed, only to witness his son watching the men with wide eyes, fright he had been so desperately trying to hide from his brothers spiralling out. At least John had had time in between being faced with the officers, not to mention the constant reassurance from his father. Scott was behind on that one._

"_I'm staying in here. If you have things to ask, you'll just have to do it here." Seeing Scott sag in relief out of the corner of his eye, Jeff stood up from the floor, crossing the room to perch on the edge of his son's bed, in what little room was left considering it already had John and Virgil on it._

"_If you're sure, Sir? I warn you now, this may be distressing for your sons."_

_"More distressing than what we've already been through?" Scott asked darkly, his whole face clouding over as the men walked into the room and perched on the visitors chairs, looking ready to bolt at any moment. Jeff didn't blame them though, Scott had a face like a thunderstorm. Reaching around Virgil, the father quickly clasped his son's hand in his own, trying to still the tremor wracking through it. Eventually, Scott calmed down, sinking back into his pillows and turning away from the men. Glancing over at them, Jeff nodded that they should start._

"_First of all, we have cleaned the phones. You are once more bug free, Mr Tracy. But we must ask, can you think of how Blag might have been able to get close enough to bug them in the first place?"_

_Frowning, Jeff gazed at his sons as he thought. How did Blag manage to get close enough to bug his phones, he hadn't let his mobile out of his sight since the day of the meeting? But it must have been done before that. As if a light bulb had been flicked on, Jeff suddenly knew how his mobile at the least had been bugged._

"_The first time I met Blag, a couple of weeks ago at a conference, we all had to hand in any communication devices, whether it be phones or laptops. That was when he approached me, stating his interest in the business. He must have done it then, it's the only time I haven't had my phone with me."_

_"That would make sense," one of the men muttered, trading glances with his companion, who in turn nodded. "We had security onto us recently for a series of phones being tampered with during conferences when they were supposed to be safe. Blag must have decided to do the same thing. But what about the house phone?"_

_Wracking his brains, Jeff drew a blank. It must have happened before the events had unfolded, making the father shudder as he realised the mad man must have planned for a while how to tear the Tracy family apart._

"_I can honestly say I have no idea." Jeff stated bluntly, causing the men to sigh in resignation, but nod._

"_I do." Scott suddenly said, making all three adults turn towards him in surprise. He was sitting up a lot straighter now, although his hand had once more sought out his father's, gripping on like a vice._

"_Scott?"_

"_The day after you went to that conference, it was a Saturday, right?" At his father's nod, Scott continued, although Jeff couldn't help but notice he wouldn't look the officers in the eye. "A man came to the house, said he was there to service the phones. I…I didn't think anything of it, he had ID and everything. I just knew that Alan was playing up and Virgil didn't want breakfast."_

_Glancing away, Scott refused to meet his father's eye now, instead opting for studying the plain linen sheet on his bed instead. Sighing deeply, Jeff felt his shoulders sag. It meant the bugging of the home phone was his fault as well, he should have been there for them, not leaving it to Scott. Noting Virgil suddenly looking guilty, the father leant over and gave his son's shoulder a squeeze._

"_It's alright, Virg." The youth nodded his understanding, but Jeff couldn't help but notice it took a considerable amount of time after that until the look vanished. He clearly wasn't the only one regretting his behaviour over the last year then. It seemed the family had a lot of time to catch up on, mainly in making it up to the eldest brother._

"_That again, would make sense. Thank you, son. That is good on the phones front, it means now that Blag has been arrested, everything should be cleared up. Another thing though, Mr Samsom mentioned in his statement that he called the police straight after Scott was taken?"_

_Glancing anxiously between his boys, Jeff knew that whilst they were still holding it together now, it wouldn't be for much longer. Scott had violently flinched when Blag was mentioned, small shakes causing his body to tremble as the officer finished. It wasn't just Scott who had reacted though, Virgil had immediately turned to John, tears pooling in his eyes as he recalled his anguish when he returned to the café after Scott had not emerged from the alleyway. John in turn had nodded softly to his brother, although Jeff could see him biting his lip. Even Gordon had fallen silent, pressing himself into John as he too remembered the horror of that day. Luckily, the officers also seemed to be aware of the distress of the family, and their voices lowered to a more soothing tone, knowing this question could only be answered by the children._

"_Boys, did you use Mr Samson's phone?" As John nodded, the two traded puzzled glances. "But we've checked his phone, it's clean. So why didn't the police respond?"_

"_Because it was Turner," Scott broke in again, shutting his eyes. To his father's alarm, he could see the shaking was getting more obvious now. This was obviously hurting Scott a lot more than he was showing. Standing up from the edge of the bed, Jeff moved around to the other end, perching on the side of Scott's pillow and wrapping his arm around the teenager's shoulders._

_"He…he told me. Said that he and some other officer had been waiting nearby, and they did something, I don't know what. It meant when they saw the call being put out – they could see the store from where they were – they intercepted it and they were the ones who went in."_

"_You didn't tell me at the house it was the same officers as before, John." Jeff broke in, glancing in confusion at the elder of his two blonds._

_"I didn't know you even knew about the ones from before. I was a bit preoccupied at the time, I had a screaming Gordon on my hands."_

"_Didn't scream." Gordon pouted, causing John to ruffle his hair fondly._

"_It's a good job you did, kiddo."_

"_So let me get this straight," one of the officers suddenly cut in, glancing between the Tracys as if unsure of who he should be addressing this too. "Turner was keeping watch, and so when he saw you phone the police after knowing Scott had been kidnapped, they came into the store and dismissed it to stop you making further contact. And when you, Mr Tracy, did, it was Turner who turned up at the house to question the boys?"_

_"And to try and take another." Jeff muttered sullenly, tightening his grip around Scott. _

"_Right. Well, I think we've got enough to go on for now. Thank you for your time, and your help, boys." Standing up, the two officers then swiftly left the room, talking quietly among themselves._

"_You did brilliantly, boys. I'm proud of you."_

Now, however, dawn had broken on a new day in the Tracy family. Scott had awoken early, although judging by the quick breathing that accompanied it, Jeff knew it was the nightmares already starting. It had given father and son enough time to have the talk they so desperately needed before John awoke. Sitting on the two beds, the three remaining brothers had just joined the family, unable to stay away from their brothers any longer. And right now, Jeff Tracy thought he could possibly be one of the happiest men in the world. For the first time in a year, Jeff couldn't help but feel the hole in his heart was beginning to close, it felt fractionally smaller than before. Maybe it was indeed a new start for them all….

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't go in there." Hearing Rachel's voice, Jeff blinked himself out of his musings, smiling reassuringly at Scott as the youth glanced up in worry. Crossing the room, Jeff stuck his head out of the door to see a bespectacled man being gently held back by Rachel, a crying toddler who looked to be around Alan's age in his arms.

"It's alright, Rachel," Jeff called reassuringly, knowing from experience it was not easy to hold a child that age who didn't want to be held. "Can I help you, Mr-?"

"H…Hackenbacker. H…H….Hiram Hackenbacker," the young father stuttered, hitching the whinging child further into his arms. "I was told you may know something about the death of my great-uncle."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I know…"

"He was the man brought in with Scott, Mr Tracy," Rachel interrupted, a sad look crossing her face.

"The one who was shot?" Jeff muttered back, his voice low in order to not cause any distress to the man. As Rachel nodded, Jeff sighed, running a hand over his eyes wearily. He knew Blag had torn more than one family apart.

"He didn't make it?"

"I'm sorry, no."

"Dad?" Jumping at Scott's call, Jeff shot the others an apologetic look and darted back into the room, not wanting to leave his son for any longer than necessary.

"Scott? Everything alright, son?"

"What's going on? Who's outside?"

"The great-nephew, or something like that, of Mr Hackenbacker."

"Mr who?" Scott asked, his eyes flickering over to make sure Alan wasn't too close to the edge of the bed. Smiling fondly at his precautions, Jeff sighed again.

"The man who was at the house with you. I'm sorry, Scott, he didn't make it." Tears immediately sprang into Scott's eyes and he glanced away, clearly not wanting Jeff to see them.

"Tell him…tell him he saved my life."

"Scotty, want to play," Alan suddenly moaned, stretching his arms out to his brother. With a long-suffering sigh and a fond smile, Scott lifted his brother down from the bed and handed him his toy cars from down by his side.

"You j…just t…told him yourself," an unfamiliar voice sounded, revealing the young man standing in the doorway, his child having fallen silent.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr Hackenbacker."

"Call me Brains, everyone does. And I…I never k…k….knew him, he disappeared when I w…was y…young. I'm the c…closest r…relative, h…hence why I'm h…here."

"Wanna play?" Alan suddenly called out. Following his gaze, Jeff smiled when he saw his youngest son was gazing up at the child he didn't know. It was good that at least one of his boys had escaped a fear of strangers from this ordeal, although Scott was handling this better than his father had dared hoped.

"D…Daddy?"

"S..s…urh, sure, Fermat." Placing his son on the floor, the fathers watched as their two little boys immediately engaged each other in a game. Sometimes Jeff envied the innocence Alan still possessed, would do anything for his other boys to have it back too.

"Urh…w…what happened?"

"Quite frankly, Brains, I have no idea. But I know what is going to happen."

"A…and what is t…that Mr, er, T…Tracy?"

"I'm going to change the world. You in?"

"S…s…sure."

The end!

**Until next time then! Let me know what you thought?**

**BYE!**


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